


The Widower and the Bartender

by Twinkeeper



Series: Stargate Project Reboot [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1, Stargate Universe
Genre: Abydos, Alternate Universe, Attempt to be a political thriller, Charlie is alive, Daniel is super hot, Gen, Iraq and Chemical Warfare, Jack is straight, Jack's kids are dangerous, Kind of POTUS appearance, M/M, Project Stargate history with a twist, Straight man cannot resist gay guy, There is Saddam Hussein, With brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:24:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 73,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2291813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinkeeper/pseuds/Twinkeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Jack O'Neill must juggle a top secret project, incoming war in the Middle East and life as a single parent with four sons.  Then he does a cute-meet with a bartender.  Suddenly his life turns into a bad rip off of a Tom Clancy novel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dark Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Dark+Angel).



> I wrote this around 15 years ago (gasp!), before 9/11, before the second Iraq War, before Osama bin Laden, before the whole world hated George W. Bush, and the only international conspiracy hoolabaloo at the time is the Millennium Bug. Then my cheap computer crashed, and I lost interest in writing fanfic, particularly the ones that I am not familiar with. Yup, I am a fandom writer who was inspired by the fandom (and the photos of the cute characters/actors), not the real tv series itself. In my defence, I lived in a country who didn't show any of the series I was interested about, with very slow internet connection, and considered computers as luxurious items. At that time I naively thought that once my fics were saved in archive sites I had nothing to worry about. Cue some 10 years later, when tv cable networks were (finally) part of everyday life, youtube existed, the internet connection improved immensely, and I finally able to buy an Apple computer, those archive sites were gone! This fic is still around because someone had been generous enough to save it (thank you Dark Angel!). Imagine my surprise in reading them again, because it does feel like reading someone else' works! So yeah, this is my attempt to save whatever works I have left in the world wide web, and a thank you note to those who actually have the time to save them (and there are still people searching for them, apparently). I am so grateful. Who knows, maybe I will start writing again... :D
> 
> BTW, I must admit there are things in there that left me cringing and downright embarrassed, but what's done is done, and this is left untouched, despite my instinct to edit and rewrite some of the chapters. Sorry if it came out seemingly ignorant, unknowledgaeble, and down right silly, especially the beginning sections. Please be patient, and don't give up yet, Ok?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw heck... Guys, this part is really cringeworthy 'kay? I'm very sorry. The plot is better at the later part..

"He's coming!"

Such a simple exclamation created chaos inside the administrative office of USAF Tactical Command. About seven female sergeants and lieutenants hurried to their seats and proceed their usual routines. From an outsider's point of view, the so-called 'routines' would probably look odd. The officers, appointed on their individual achievements, some outstanding, were *preening*. Some of them shaking their heads to test the fall of their hair, some peeking at nearby mirrors, pinching their cheeks, while others blatantly applied lipstick, powder, or brushed their hair.

Such gestures amused their male colleagues, which had proven to be a sore point with the female officers. Never in the history of US Air Force had gender bantering escalated to as hot a point as it had inside the office of the newest General.

Yet, everyone agreed that the Brigadier General was attractive. An outsider might be surprised to see that he was not a drop dead gorgeous kind of guy. In fact, he was a weathered middle aged man, in his late forties but looking a good ten years younger, with a gently brooding expression but armed with a sweet, melting smile. Even male officers seemed to agree that there was some kind of magic charm that he possessed that made every single female in the building succumb to him. However, one might appoint that the reason behind it mostly things that always appealed basic maternal instinct.

The new Brigadier General was a widower with four boys, ranging from a sweet eighteen year old brat who had declared to the world that he was gay, to a three year old that always had nightmares that his father had died in the middle of the desert. The fact that their father was incredibly gentle and patient to all of his children was a thing that made him unique in a place where many men were taught that family and children was *not* number one in their life. The door swung open and a collective of soft sighs were heard once Brigadier General Jonathan O'Neill appeared with a squirming little boy in his arms.

He looked around apologetically, as if wanting to explain why for the umpteenth time in his short history of residing in the west wing of headquarters, that he always came to work with a child as a permanent fixture around his neck.

"Let go, Paulie. You're embarrassing me here, boy." He patted the jean-clad little bottom.

"Noooooo…" came the whining reply. The ripe cheeks under his father's neck were covered with dried tears, yet, when the cute thing saw the sea of wide, adoring female eyes in front of him, a shy but mischievious little smile broke out. The boy knew that his father's subordinates recognized his tactics, which never failed, that had somehow formed an invisible bond between the child and the officers. It was a wonder that his father never had a clue. His subordinates never had the heart to point this out to their boss.

Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill stared at his secretary helplessly, oblivious to the fact that his lost expression made every female around him want to hug him.

"You'll go with Anna, all right, Paulie? She can help you draw that little dinosaur for Miss Jones while Daddy goes to the meeting. That all right, Sport?"

The secretary, Anna, had already jumped up, face beaming. Of course, entertaining a sweet three year old who belonged to a gorgeous, well, attractive *General* that everyone had their eye on beat typing a stack of reports any day. She already imagined the envious eyes of every female officer down in the cafeteria and could not wait to show off.

The little boy nodded, then turned to see his father with joyous cross eyes. "But I can wait until Brad and Tim come here, dad?"

His father looked back with equally cross eyes . Somehow he just could not give a proper answer. Especially when his youngest boy managed to make his question a command.

Brad was coming. Jack O'Neill groaned softly. That'd be at the end of the day, which meant Paul stayed with him or at the HQ nursery *all* day. Then he sighed, remembering how he had been trapped by his oldest son to go where he had wanted to go for his high school graduation celebration. The General suddenly realized how simple and orderly military life was compared to his home life.

"Fine. But we agreed that you're not coming with us, remember?"

The pout was incredible. It was *powerful*. However, this time, it did not win him. The General was adamant.

"No pouting. You gave me your word yesterday. That's why you are allowed to come in here. Ah, Marjorie, bring me the airplane procurement report, will you?"

The pout relaxed a little, while Marjorie bounced quickly toward her boss.

"Hey, you made a promise. Keep it." Jack patted his boy's head playfully and smiled toward the incoming Marjorie.

"Where are you going with Brad, Sir?" she asked, trying to conceal her blushing.

The General sighed loudly, "Believe it or not, I am chaperoning him and his boyfriend to a gay-friendly Club."

Once the boy was off with Anna, and the handsome General securely locked inside his small office, the band of women flocked together.

"Gay-friendly? Not faaaiiiirrr!" One of them whimpered, "We can't take any more competition!"

Sergeant Chance Wiley snorted, "I still can't believe he encouraged his son. It's bad enough he accepts the kid has a boyfriend. But going to a *gay* bar? Geez."

"It's *not* a gay *bar*. It's a gay-friendly, polite *club*, Chance," Marjorie said defensively. "What's a difference with taking a daughter to a disco? Such gesture shows how responsible he is as a father."

"If he was responsible, he won't take him to a gay club. He should take him to a church."

Thus, began the routine fight that the general was always oblivious to. Until the door opened, revealing a blonde, beautiful woman.

"Major Carter." Chance Wiley gave her a thousand-watt smile. Everyone knew that Major Samantha 'Sam' Carter was one of the contenders of Mrs. O'Neill. Though, of course, such a thing would probably never happen with all the complicated military rules, the General's obvious disinterest in another marriage, and the Major's devotion to her career.

Yet, they were undoubtedly very close and compatible. Not to mention that they made a great pair together, with all that sweetness and gentle attractiveness. That was one of the reasons why the Major was always greeted coolly by Jack's female subordinates. A thing that she was aware of.

"I saw Anna and Paul in the hallway," Sam smiled toward Chance.

"You wouldn't believe the reason why he allowed the toddler to come with him today, Sir." Chance rolled his eyes.

"Let me guess," Sam smiled. "A bribe so he wouldn't disrupt Brad's great night?"

Was this woman really *not* the second Mrs. O'Neill?

Sam glided to the General's office. Once she was inside, Marjorie exchanged looks with the other girls. "Bitch," she murmured.

Inside, Sam scolded her friend, "You're being too soft on your kids, Jack."

Jack grinned. He liked Sam a lot. The woman was appointed by General Hammond to join him in the making of the secret project, Stargate, five years ago. She may have been young, but she turned out to be brilliant and treated him like a person, something that he was craving being in a position this high.

Their friendship turned out to be a great thing for Jack. Sam was there when Jack and Sara's marriage went into disarray, then she was there when Sara trapped Jack into postponing the divorce by getting pregnant *again*. She was there when Sara passed away after giving birth to Paul, and during the grief that followed. She had also been there when Brad announced his homosexuality *and* his new boyfriend, and she was also there when Jack finally became a Brigadier General, taking over Tactical Command at HQ.

Of course, they actually liked each other to the point of fancying each other. Yet, there were so many things they had both experienced together, the friendship turned out to be much more important and comfortable than being a couple. Despite the little jealousies in the beginning, they both finally let go the courting and became best friends. Like Mulder and Scully. Or Fred Hunter and Dee Dee, Jack had once said, smirking.

"Can't wait to go the Mountain," Jack said softly, ignoring his friend's comment on his behaviour toward his kids, and showed her the top secret photos from his file.

"The General is already being appointed as First Command there, we wonder when you are finally decreed to go." Sam said. She knew how important Jack was to Pentagon, and realized the reluctance of the powers that be to release him. But still, Stargate was their baby. Jack should be there.

"No luck with the anthropology team?"

Sam groaned, "I have come to the conclusion that we set the standard too high! There is not a single anthropology expert who can meet those requirements. We've come up with people who are academically qualified, but they're a bunch of old professors who aren't physically fit for intergalactic journeys."  
  
Jack stared blankly. "Something will show up. There are billions of people on earth, there should be at least one that can fit."

"Easy for you to say, Jack, since you aren't interested in it. I don't believe we'll come up with one. Maybe we should lower the standard a bit."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Give up, Carter? Aw, come on! I believe in fate."

"And would your fate tell you how to find this person?"

The Commander gave her his stunning, heart-stopping smile. "Look around the corner, and there you go!"

****************

Of course a celebrated out-of-the-closet eighteen year old needed to make a statement to the world. Everyone in the administrative office understood that. But still, they cringed to see all the tattoos, pins and needles on one boy, and the body-fitting, dreadfully colorful fashion sported by another boy.

Bradley O'Neill was a sissy from the day he was born. He had endured public loathing from his elementary school classmates like any sissy did. However, he was gifted with drop-dead beautiful looks, a smart-ass but classy attitude, a weird sense of humor, an unusual agility and ability to play all kinds of sports, and a very protective father. He was secretly admired by the boys in junior high since he was obviously much more beautiful and interesting than the girls, and challenged every jock's sexual orientation during his high school years. He changed boyfriends like anyone else changed his underwear. None of his boyfriends were gay -yet- but none of them were ashamed of being flaunted as one of Brad's conquests. Somehow, being his date turned out to be a good boost in popularity.

All of his school friends called him 'the Seductress'. He was as irresistible as a siren and as popular as a Hollywood teen idol. He was even admired by his teachers and schoolmates' moms. How he could change the norm and the world's point of view like anyone flipping a page from a magazine never been imagined by anyone, let alone his own father who was as helpless to his charm as anyone male.

To Jack, his oldest son was a daughter come from heaven. He loved and protected him like a father cared for his own girl. He secretly felt guilty for spoiling Brad differently than his brothers, yet he couldn't help it, since the rest of his children were all rough and tumble boys. He never cared about Brad's sexual orientation, since he seemed to have a great, happy life. The only thing he was grateful for was that despite all his sissy tendencies, Brad was never interested in changing his sex. He loved himself as a boy.

Jack protected him fiercely, and Brad returned his love with the same intensity even to the point of being jealous and possessive of any woman who attempted to obtain his father's affections. That was why Brad had never gotten along with his mother, who had loathed his homosexuality and to Sam, whom he pictured as a rival.

The only thing that Jack disapproved of was his son's constant attempts to make his father a gay man. He never understood the reasoning behind his son's flamboyant mind. Jack had finally succumbed to his son's plea for chaperoning him to his *gay* hangouts, but it was mostly to assure himself that his son was not in danger of getting HIV from promiscuous sex. He knew that despite his flirtatious manner, Brad was restrained in his sex life; however, he could just see that his son would be like a lamb in a wolf den in those surroundings.

The first time Bradley had shown up at his father's office, he immediately made good friends with everybody. Jack remembered how his own jaw dropped watching him being surrounded by admirers, who were, of course, military personnel. He did not know that part of the charm came from the women eyeing his father. Everyone wanted to be buddy-buddy with the attractive General's son, yet, once everyone saw the genuine love and admiration between the unusual pair of father and son,

Jack's points had risen incredibly high with the female community, thus making him the most sought-after man at HQ.

"Dad!" Brad squeaked with delight when his father appeared after the meeting was over. He ran and glommed onto his father like a leech, unconcerned about any one else's reaction over his childish gesture. To everyone's amusement, Jack returned the hug as fiercely, then finally scowled at the punk behind his son. Tim, the boy with all the tattoos and pins, was his son's newest squeeze. He was of rather questionable kind of young man, but so far, he had turned out to be Brad's longest held boyfriend. The boy was quiet and calm, respected Jack enough and showed a real affection for Brad's little brothers. Like today, when Paul was found snoring in his arms. Jack constantly scowled at him, but that was expected from a father about his daughter - er…son's- boyfriend.

"We're ready aren't we, Dad? You'll keep your promise, right?" Brad turned his chocolate, puppy dog eyes to his father.

"Brad, I've been thinking-" Jack smiled at his administration staff apologetically. He knew that his family drama was great entertainment.

"No way!" His son suddenly started kissing his father's cheeks. He knew that such open affectionate gestures always upset his father.

"You," Kiss. Kiss. "promised!". Kiss. Kiss. "And NO PAULIE!"

"Ugh. Stop that." Jack wiped the moisture disgustingly. "Fine, we'll drop Paulie at home, and-"

Paul wailed.

"Uh oh," Tim said.

"I'M COMING!" the three year old screamed.

"Don't shout so loud!" Jack looked at Brad sternly. "You handle your brother."

"Stop crying, Paul." Brad snatched his brother out from his boyfriend's clutches. "You go home and stay there, okay?"

"Daddy! I want to go with you!"

"Oh, heaven's sake," Jack groaned. He looked at his staff. "See you all. We're going."

"Good luck, Sir," Chance grinned.

The greet was returned with a snort.

***************************

There was no way Paul going to stay silent. When Jack almost cancelled, he was faced with a wailing eighteen year old, and the house became a chamber of wails. He vaguely realized now why all of his friends, including Sam, always pointed out that he was way too soft to his children. They had all turned out to be spoiled brats.

Jack finally decided to accompany Brad and Tim to Galore, the largest Club that was teen-friendly in the city, and a rather popular hang out joint for university students. It had advertised a Non-Alcohol night, and that Jack was already making sure that nothing dangerous could happen to anyone. After all, he thought absently, what could be so dangerous with *university* students. He would drop them off there, check out the scene a little, escort the young boys to the mall (the twins refused to be left out), then pick them up later on. A rather good idea from his point-of-view, but a terrible one for the high school graduate.

Now, on their way to Galore, he was thinking about how to handle a very sulky boy who deserved a good time. He didn't like Brad's secret glances to Tim, and later on, to the twins. It was as if they were planning to do things of which he would disapprove. He wondered if he miscalculated his control of the situation.

Even now, he still wondered why Brad wouldn't just go with Tim and leave his Dad with his brothers at home. Then he remembered that he was being blackmailed into accompanying his beautiful son to a gay-friendly entertainment establishment. He was already picturing gay-sex club scenes despite the vehement denial from the young man, and, he was still uneasy about letting Brad go by himself.

//I am a General, for God's sake//, Jack sighed. //Look what happened to the family I command//. He wondered if he deserved his rank. And as usual, a sharp pang at being a widower came back with a vengeance.

They separated at the door. Tim excused himself for a moment, and promised them to meet at the bar. Jack glared at him dangerously and bid his young sons to stay locked inside the car. Once he finally was inside with Brad, he quickly took his son towards the crowded bar, looking frantically for Tim.

Brad brightened immediately, seeing that there were plenty of the so-called *gay celebrities* attending tonight. Jack was wondering what he meant by that, and realized how popular his son was with these people. They didn't look dangerous, he decided grudgingly.

Brad greeted some people heartily, then turned to his father with excitement. His favorite local band was going to perform tonight. He kissed his father's cheeks constantly at the bar until his father squirmed.

"See, Dad? These people aren't dangerous!" Brad grinned gleefully.

"Where the hell is Tim?" Jack frowned with worry and clenched his son's wrist tightly to prevent him from going astray.

"Relax, Dad! Trust him! He used to be a bouncer here. The twins aren't going anywhere with Paulie."

"Well, if he doesn't show up in five seconds, I'm going to kill him." Jack was already feeling sorry for giving up to his child's demands.

"Where the hell is he?"

"Ooooooohhh… Dad! Lookey!" Brad giggled in his ear.

"What? Where?" Jack quickly turned, expecting the punk.

"That's Daniel, Dad." Brad giggled and pointed toward one of the bartenders inside the long, crowded island. "Tim says he's a dreamboat, and every customer is always looking at him. Isn't he cute?"

"I thought you're going steady with Tim," Jack said coldly to his son.

"We're thinking of a threesome."

"BRAD!"

"Geez, Dad… You're too uptight. Now, there! Tim's coming."

Jack exhaled loudly when the punk appeared.

"Where've you been?" he almost screamed, reaching out for him.

Tim avoided his catch, and smirked guiltily. "Taking care of the kids. Charlie and Shane asked to go someplace else."

"Where?" Jack narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Dad, they're fine!" Brad hugged his father tightly. "Who's watching them, Tim?"

"Clive," Tim giggled to Brad, who laughed uproariously.

"Brad?"

"Relax, Dad. They're fine. Nobody can touch them."

"Who's Clive?"

Tim grinned, "The DJ."

"What!" Jack turned and yes, indeed, up above them, inside the small window cage in the balcony, his young boys were bouncing up and down joyfully.

"You miserable, punk!" Jack angrily stepped toward Tim. However, Brad interfered.

"Dad." Kiss. Kiss. "Nothing is dangerous here. Charlie and Shane can handle the music, and Paulie won't understand a thing." Kiss. Kiss.

"Let them have fun once in a while, okay?"

"I'll deal with you later." Jack pointed at Tim's nose dangerously.

"It was Brad's suggestion, General." The punk cowered. "Though I honestly don't see why they're not allowed to be here anyway. There's plenty of teenagers here."

"They're not teenagers yet, you shrimp!"

"Dad," Brad giggled. "You're positively burning!"

Jack turned toward his son, hardening his heart. "You will be grounded after this, you got that?"

And those beautiful eyes of his son were just too lethal. He suddenly could not stay angry anymore. Jack bit his lip helplessly and looked around. He decided that things did not look too bad.

He sighed, "Now listen." He turned toward the punk and Brad. "I'll give you two hours to enjoy yourselves, then I collect you after taking your brothers home. Got it?"

"Awww Dad... You're impossible." Brad batted his eyelashes. "Let me introduce you to Daniel first, Dad. Tim says he'll be good for you!"

"Never mind-"

But to his horror, Tim was now shouting toward the guy whose name was Daniel, obviously another of Brad's attempts at making his father as queer as himself.

When the man being called appeared near them, Jack's first reaction was how much he resembled Brad. It was as if this Daniel a reflection of his son ten years in the future without the sissiness and smart-ass attitude.

"You're looking, Dad," Brad giggled and teased him. "Hello, Daniel."

The bartender gave him a bright smile, and Jack had a feeling that this was not the first time Brad went to the place.

"Hello, Brad. How are you?"

"This is my Dad, Jack. The one I kept telling you about."

"Brad." Jack narrowed his eyes toward his son, then turned his scowling face to Daniel. He realized that unlike his son, this man's eyes were blue. Crystal clear blue.

"Has he come here before?" he asked the amused face harshly. "During alcohol-allowed night?"

"Dad!"

"Sure," Tim answered. "That's how we met."

Jack turned toward Brad, and the boy smiled sheepishly while cowering behind his boyfriend's back. Realizing that they were ready to flee, Jack stepped nearer.

"You!"

The boys giggled madly then suddenly moved quickly and disappeared into the crowd.

"Hey!"

He spent almost ten minutes trying to track his son, then came back warily toward the bar. Surprisingly, the man, Daniel, was waiting for him.

"Didn't you card him before? He's just turning eighteen." Jack scowled accusingly to the bartender and was again struck with the similarity between him and his oldest son.

"Threw him out," Daniel laughed gently. He had a gentle, soft voice.

"He was persistent."

"He didn't-" Jack couldn't continue.

Daniel looked at him and patted his hand. "Your son might be young, Sir, but he's a responsible kid. He wasn't harmed and knew how to handle himself. Beside, this place's not so dangerous."

Jack stared again toward the direction where Brad disappeared. Feeling his quickened heartbeat slowly returned to normal. Well, the place was certainly not a sex club, he thought. Though he admitted feeling uneasy to see Brad knew so many older patrons there.

"What about Clive?"

The bartender stopped his movement and looked at him quizzically.

"Clive?"

"The DJ. Is he an okay guy?"

"Brad already eyeing another one? Tim will be heart-broken!"

"No," Jack sighed, and finally smiled sheepishly, unaware that as always, his smile stopped traffic. "Somehow he has my other sons as hostages."

The bartender looked dazed for a minute, then finally turned incredulous. "Your other sons?" He turned toward the glass cage, and laughed with disbelief.

"It's a long story," Jack sighed. "Help me, though. Can you take them down from there? I need to take them home."

Daniel called a bouncer. When he whispered Jack's request, the bouncer's face turned into odd expression and smirked toward the General before disappearing. Ten minutes later, the bouncer was back and took Jack, followed by the bartender, to the backroom of the club.

The backroom turned out to be the office of the manager. Since he was not present at the moment, Daniel asked the bouncer to stay in the office.

The man grinned widely toward Jack. "I must say that your children enjoy themselves immensely, Sir."

Jack shrugged and quickly went toward a smaller room beside it. The room turned out to be a great kind of room. There was a large aquarium with colorful fish swimming around, a sophisticated train toy completed with the tunnels and everything, and a large screen of video playing.

"Dad!" Charlie exclaimed with delight. "Look! We have the newest F-1 race!" He showed his father the Playstation where Shane was already indulged himself.

"We have to go, kids," Jack said and swept Paulie, who was mesmerized with the train.

"No!" Paul squirmed violently. "I want to play the train! I want to play the train!"

"Boys!" Jack glanced nervously toward the bouncer, who together with the bartender were watching them with amused expression.

"Come on, Dad! This is great! Let us play for a little while," Shane scowled toward his father.

"Go ahead, Sir," the bouncer said. "Mr. Manson, the manager, had a five year old, and he loved this room so much, I can guarantee that your sons will be entertained satisfactorily and safely. Nobody would mind them staying here for a while."

Jack scratched his head, "I don't know…"

Unconsciously, he turned toward Daniel the bartender, and when the man nodded in assurance, Jack shrugged. "I suppose it is fine then." After all, this would give him a good chance to look after Brad anyway.

He left Charlie instruction to keep an eye on his little brother and how to call him if something came up. The boy nodded distractingly, already heavily concentrated on the game.

Jack sighed, and before long he found himself sitting again in the corner of the bar with Daniel hovered nearby.

Amazingly, they started chatting amidst the crowd and noises. Daniel served customers without releasing his attention from Jack, and they were both surprised to learn that their conversation turned out to be lively.

When finally Brad returned with sweat all over his body, he grinned happily to see his father talking in a buddy-buddy manner with his dreamboat bartender.

Jack pushed him a glass of Coca Cola.

Brad squeezed himself between his father and the bar, smearing his sweat all over his father's front.

Daniel watched them with amusement and obvious interest.

"He's no fun, is he, Daniel?" Brad giggled.

"Stop the stupid giggling, and where's the punk anyway?" Jack slapped his head.

Brad pouted, "Somebody was getting high, so he took him away."

"See? Anyone started going high. We must go home now."

"Argh, Dad." Brad wiggled and placed his head on his father's shoulder.

"He's a spoiled brat," Jack said to Daniel apologetically. He saw the bartender's eyes turned sad for a moment, then brighten with a soft light.

"I can see you love him very much," Daniel said softly.

Brad purred.

"Yeah," Jack said reluctantly. "I love them all."

"Dad…." Brad burrowed his face to his father's shirt.

"Let's go home, Brad." Jack pulled his son's hair, and cringed when it came off wet and sticky with sweat. "It's too much for your brothers despite your assurance of this place's *innocence*"

"I'm not tired yet. And you said two hours." Brad's eyes suddenly looking huge and pleading.

"You're tired! And your boyfriend disappeared. I won't allow you to go back there alone."

"Then dance with me!"

"Are you crazy?"

Daniel laughed, "Spare your old man, will you, Brad?"

Brad laughed back, "I knew you'd like him to stay here, don't you, Daniel?"

The bartender smirked, "Nice try, kid. Now, drink your coke and sit there until Tim's back, okay?"

Amazingly, Brad agreed. Jack watched him sip on his Coke in wonder.

"Is he cute, Daniel?" Suddenly Brad asked the bartender, and without waiting for answer, he continued, "I think Dad thinks you're cute."

"Brad, give up." Jack rolled his eyes.

"I like Daniel, Dad. Look. Doesn't he look like me?"

"He thinks you're cute, Daniel," Jack sighed toward the smiling bartender.

"And I can see that you're straight," Daniel laughed. "Brad, sweetheart. Thank you for wanting me to hook up with someone new, but obviously your Dad isn't interested."

Brad pouted. "He's no fun." Then he brightened. "There's Tim!"

Jack turned to Daniel and saw the sadness appeared again in those beautiful blue eyes. "Only lately single?"

"Yeah." Daniel shrugged. "Broke up with a long time lover. Wasn't easy. Especially when everyone around you thought that the best thing for you was to hook up with someone new."

"Ha! I know how it feels!" Jack nodded enthusiastically.

"I heard about you. Was it hard to raise a baby by yourself?"

"Brad, Shane and Charlie were wonders. They help me." Jack slowly played with the mist around his glass. When he looked up he saw Daniel watching him.

"Are you sure you're straight, Jack?" Daniel asked lightly with amusement in his eyes. He looked very nice, Jack thought. He suddenly wished that Brad would be less flamboyant so that he would turn out this nice-looking in the future.

"I suppose when your arms are full of kids it hardly matters."

Daniel laughed.

**********************

The disaster came just half an hour before Jack's curfew.

Once the band started, the crowd suddenly went wild. His pleasant conversation with Daniel that seemed to be dismissing all those customers in favor for Jack ceased once he realized that many questionable people were coming in. It would not be teenage-friendly for long.

He watched anxiously for his son, ready to flee.

Daniel caught on his worry. "Want me to get your other boys down?"

Jack turned to him gratefully. "Will you?"

"Anything for you, Jack." The smile was incredibly warm and blinding.

"I'll find Brad, then. Where do I meet you?"

Daniel showed him the way to the back door. Finally, Jack left the safe corner where he had been sitting and started looking for his son. After considerable time, energy and wading through gyrating bodies, he finally saw Brad squished between two boys.

He stopped, wondering whether they were Brad's friends, then suddenly realized that his son's face was full of discomfort and a hint of fear.

"Brad!" Where the hell was Tim?

Brad turned toward his father's voice, his face was so full of panic that Jack could no longer think.

"Leave him alone!" He pushed one of the boys away, gasping when he realized that the boy's zipper was opened.

"BRAD!" He stared in horror, realizing that his son's pants were already down in the middle of his thighs.

"Da-"

He threw a punch at the other boy who was still *gyrating* against his son's body. That boy fell like a tree

"Dad, please…" Brad looked at him with tears in his eyes.

Jack stared numbly when suddenly something hard and painful struck his face. His world turned black.

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by a pair of clear blue eyes that shone with worry and relief.

"Well, he's coming back into the land of living," Daniel murmured.

Jack tilted his face, hearing the harmonious sounds of sobs. His sons.

"Brad?"

"Whole and well, except for being a sorry ass."

"Dad…" The young man suddenly jumped at the top of him and squeezed his lungs. "I'm sorry…"

Jack gasped frantically, when he felt three other persons jump on him, crying miserably. "Let...go…"

"Hang on, children, your father can't breath." Daniel's voice suddenly felt like an oasis in the middle of the desert. Cool and soothing.

Once the squeezing eased, Daniel helped Jack sat up. Feeling how badly his face smarted, he knew that he must have looked like hell. A cold bundle was pushed to his hand, and gratefully he put it on his throbbing face. He squinted his eyes open and watched Paulie gasping miserably with his arms and face buried at his waist.

"Don't die, Daddy. Don't die, Daddy…"

Daniel smiled sympathetically to him, "I'm sorry that he has this morbid fantasy. He was practically hysterical when you were out."

Jack rubbed the sweating little boy gently. "Now, Paulie, hush. You know now why you shouldn't come to Brad's hangout, right? Calm down, sweetie."

Jack found his oldest son cowering in one corner, looking equally miserable. The cold feeling came back with a vengeance when he remembered.

"Brad-," he croaked, and suddenly he could speak no further.

"I'm fine, Dad," Brad sobbed. "I'm sorry…"

"They-"

"They didn't do anything, Dad. You came at the right time." He broke out into another crying fit. "Are you okay, Dad?"

Daniel patted Jack's shoulder. "He's fine, trust me."

"But he-"

"It's not as bad as you thought. And those boys didn't *do* what you thought they did." Daniel looked at Jack closely, soothing the agitated father who did not know whether he should thank God or explode in anger.

"They were just rubbing themselves on me, Dad…" Brad sniffed.

"Honest. I won't do anything bad to Tim."

"Let's go-" Shane said. "-home, Dad," Charlie continued.

"Jack, can I make a suggestion?" Daniel said. Somehow, his gentle voice did wonders for Jack's headache. "Tim is readying your car outside, and believe me, he is trustworthy. Let him chaperone the children and I'll take you home, okay?"

"Why can't he go home with us?" Charlie wailed in protest.

"I have to take him to the hospital," Daniel said patiently. He showed him Jack's bruises. "Look. He needs to get treatment, and it's a little late for you all to come down there."

"Daddy, don't die!" Paul screamed.

"I won't, sport," Jack sighed. "Daniel's right, it's too late for you all."

"Brad, the least you can do is taking your brothers home. You know your father won't be properly treated if they all constantly hover around him," Daniel said.

Somehow, Daniel had organized his children very well. It didn't even take ten minutes to drag the hysterical little kids and the very sorry teenage boy to the family car.

"You're not drunk, are you, Tim?" Jack asked miserably, not trusting his family to the punk in the least.

However, the so-called punk looked at him with a gentle understanding. "I didn't touch anything except 7-up fresh from Daniel's well, Sir. I'm sorry that this had happened to you. I'll take care of Brad, Sir. Don't worry."

For a moment Jack wondered whether the punk was going to spank his oldest son, but seeing the sobriety in those eyes, he suddenly realized that Tim wasn't a teenager. Whatever he was, he looked like he could handle the spoiled brats.

"You won't-"

"Trust me, Sir," he winked to Jack and turned stern eyes to his boyfriend. "Get in, Brad."

He looked back again to the adults, and grinned playfully to Daniel. "You boys have fun."

"Smart ass," Jack murmured, then groaned when the dull ache throbbed again.

Daniel chuckled and took him to a nearby car. A nice VW beetle that rattled.

"How's the head?"

"Like hell. Glad that it's the weekend. I can't imagine what would happen if I had to show up to my colleagues tomorrow."

Daniel nodded in sympathy.

"How did you do that?" Jack watched him drove the beetle with interest. He drove like he bartended. Carefully, skillfully, yet relaxed and playful.

"How did I do what?"

"Made them follow your order around. The kids, I mean. I will never be able organize them like you just did."

"Well, the circumstances were rather abnormal. Children will do anything a trusted adult tells them when their parents became disabled. It's a survival mechanism."

"Still, you're doing well. Brad really liked you."

"He has a crush on everybody."

Jack sighed, "I've tried to be supportive, but it really makes me tired."

"It's a hormone thing," Daniel laughed gently. "I'm amazed that you accept him, really. However, I think you need to be more stern towards your children."

"Everybody says that to me," Jack brooded.

"I meant that as a compliment," Daniel said softly.

"Well, thanks." Jack tried to smile. "I always wondered why everybody wants me to remarry. It's obvious I can't handle the children."

"They're doing remarkably well compared to children with both parents." Again sadness crept into the soft voice.

"I'm sorry if this is a sore point to you, Daniel," Jack said sincerely.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm an orphan, I live alone, but I live a fulfilled life. Looking at you and your family just reminds me of what I have been missing."

"Oh," Jack nodded.

He slowly stared at the face beside him, and suddenly struck again with a feeling of… *drowning*. Why the hell did he feel like that every time he looked at the nice-looking bartender?

"Would you come have dinner with us tomorrow night?"

The suggestion clearly surprised the bartender.

"I mean, if you have the time. I know that you have to bartend or whatever."

"Don't worry, I have the time. Bartending is just a part-time thing for me. Are you sure you're okay inviting me to dinner?" The blue eyes *twinkled*, and Jack decided that he really liked seeing that brightness in them.

"Why wouldn't that be okay for me? I invited you, remember?"

"Yes.. Well. I guess you're aware that I'm gay, right?"

"Like that matters! Do you see how my son turn out?"

"No, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that you're a military and-"

"Aww come on, Daniel- er-"

"Jackson."

"Yes, Mr. Daniel Jackson. I certainly am not a military bigot who takes more than just mere interest to anybody else's sexual orientation. I am extremely grateful for your help today, and my family would love to have you as a guest for dinner tomorrow. Do you need a written invitation?"

"No," Daniel laughed.

A red light appeared, and Daniel stopped the car. He turned to face Jack, and said softly, "This is the first time in a while that a man asked me to dinner for reasons other than courting me."

Jack smiled to see the sincere gratefulness. "Their loss. They should see how nice you are to their family and friends."

Daniel suddenly swallowed an invisible lump in his throat. "God, Jack. You are a really nice guy."

"Nice to meet you, too."

*****************************

Daniel Jackson did not have a normal childhood. Born to a pair of archaeologists who did not understand the term "settling down" and had forsaken modern civilization, he spent his childhood in exotic, almost unpopulated areas, isolated from children his age who never understood a word he said. His parents were not with him long. They died, as casualties of a small country's revolution, leaving a fortune, an unusual education plan and a love of science and knowledge to their ten year old son.

Daniel spent some time growing up with his grandfather who did not understand his genius and sensitivity, then he decided to live alone at fifteen when he was admitted as the youngest student in the University of Chicago.

It was fortunate that life in University suited him. The academic community were attracted to his mature-but-innocent charm and respected his academic achievement. At that point, life wasn't so lonely anymore. Girlfriends, then later boyfriends, came and went and he made friends, though he never let them get too close. In short, even though he was not a promiscuous kind of guy, Daniel Jackson's teenage years were lively.

He was aware that his gentle good looks, - some people even called him *pretty*-, brain, single-mindedness in his pursuit of knowledge, and great sense of humor, were assets to his social life. He never had any real problem connecting with interesting people, yet, he was not sure whether he had ever fallen in love.

He left Chicago as an outstanding PhD in several fields, including archaeology, anthropology, and linguistics, and landed a teaching fellowship at George Washington University. His career might have gone better if only his superiors had paid him more attention, less threaten with his odd theories, and had been open-minded enough about having a genius junior colleague.

But that had not concerned him because he had immediately found a great guy there. They had spent several years living together, drifting apart, then finally breaking up. Up until then, even though Daniel could recall great memories of his relationship with Michael, he was never sure whether or not they had been in love with each other. Their life together had just been too "companionable" that he sometimes wondered if they would have had a lasting friendship if sex had never gotten into the picture.

Not long after his break-up, he was back in circulation. However, interacting and finding prospective romance with academic colleagues suddenly became tiring, dispassionate, calculating and later on...*boring* (Daniel was *not* into students). His stalled career had also deepened his need to just simply go and find a new life.

Wanting to find more interesting people, he started bartending at Galore. He thought that since he really wanted to expand his world, he might as well start by plunging into the extreme. It had turned out to be quite fun.

He immediately became popular there, simply because visitors didn't spend too much time getting to know him. They just saw him as he was. A pretty young man.

There was never the calculated blur of physical and emotional attraction like his colleagues in GW. In a way, it was kind ...of a relief. Not to mention ego boosting.

Daniel had never been admired simply for his physical looks, and once he had, he decided that it was flattering, and enjoyable enough.

He met Bradley O'Neill through special circumstances. He was so tired of listening to Tim, the young bouncer, moaning about Bradley this and Bradley that, that by the time the primadonna had shown up for real, he threw the boy out. He was obviously underage, and based on his analysis of Tim's babbling, the young man was a nightmare.

He was not prepared to succumb to the boy's charm, and it did not help to see that Brad frighteningly looked so much like him. The instant bond between them was curiously "fraternal". Daniel suddenly saw him like a younger brother, mostly because the resemblance between the two of them gave him an idea about a version of himself had fate handed him a different life. The feeling was mutual, because suddenly Brad had funny ideas of making him a part of his family.

"The funny thing is," Daniel told his assistant and closest friend, Edwina, the next morning. "Jonathan O'Neill didn't turn out to be what I expected."

Edwina Finch, a young lady that knew almost everything about Daniel simply because she hid an unrequited love, laughed. "What did you expect?"  
  
Daniel slowly took a bite of his sandwich. Unconsciously, a ghost of smile appeared. "Based on how lively Brad is, I expected him to be a funky, carefree, anti-establishment kind of a father. Based on how Brad described his father, a blend of the white knight and Hollywood type of pretty boy," Daniel rolled his eyes.

"Based on my knowing of his military background, a nice but detached, oblivious father." He snorted, "..not to mention about being a stern one."

"And how is he in reality?" Edwina stared at her friend closely, feeling a little bit wary with the glow on Daniel's face.

"A little bit of everything," Daniel grinned. "But it came out nicely."

He caught Edwina's stare and blushed.

"He's straight," Edwina deadpanned.

Daniel laughed loudly, "Aaargh Edwina! I can look, can't I? It's not like you don't notice cute guys once in a while."

"Nope. I only see one guy who's as oblivious as an ostrich with its head buried in the sand."

Daniel gave her a soft smile. "Screw him. You deserve something better."

Edwina sighed. Oblivious indeed, she thought sadly. "So, then, dinner?"

Daniel nodded and the glow reappeared. "Honestly, it was an invitation I couldn't refuse."

"Because Brigadier General O'Neill is cute?"

Daniel chuckled, "No." His face turned serious. "Because it felt... sincere."

Edwina gulped. Sincere. She understood what Daniel meant. Lately, nobody was "sincere" toward Daniel. Including her. There was no question that if she had invited Daniel to dinner, it was because she would expect something coming out from it.

"I know that you'll enjoy it then," she said solemnly and genuinely meant it.

*************************

To be honest, Daniel had wished that Jack O'Neill was a Major or a Colonel. The man looked too sweet and gentle to be a *US* military top commander that he wondered if there might be poison at the end of the rainbow. The fact had somehow dampened his mood considerably. He had never been fond of the military as his knowledge of civilization made the man in uniform an exogenous destructive factor.

Of course he had never been into the O'Neill twilight zone till now.

First of all the house was not a barren, man-thing construct. It was warm, the yard was full of flowery shrubs, there was a swing and a hammock on the trees and the tempting smell of warm cookies in the air was spreading all over the place.

Bradley greeted him with gleeful excitement. "Do you like my hair, Daniel? I decided to go blond for you."

Daniel could only stare at the curious-looking whitish mop at the top of the perfect, doll-like face.

"What happen to those hairs?" he asked worrily. Those strands did not look *normal*.

Brad pouted, "I curled them! It took a long time to do this!"

"Oh," Daniel nodded, wondering how his father could stand this. He let the young man take his hand and pull him inside.

He was forced to manoeuver his way around a small tricycle, skateboards, the biggest bean bag he had ever seen and an army of small action figures that were dispersed all over the place. At one moment he kicked one by accident and heard a curious lazy bark coming from an undetermined source.

"Daniel!" Excited greetings came from a pair of ten year olds who took him once he entered the dining area.

Daniel stared silently at the two grinning boys who looked very well-groomed with their shining shoes, thick glasses, neatly combed hair, and crisply ironed shirts. He realized that the household had tried very hard to look its best for his visit. A sudden urge to cry made him freeze for a moment.

Suddenly the curly mop on Bradley's head and the heartbreaking neatness of the twins became the most wonderful thing he had ever seen in his life.

And if all that hadn't stolen his heart right away, the sight of General Jack O'Neill wearing an apron, trying to keep his youngest son safely hanging on his back with one hand, holding a dripping spoon in his other hand, one side of his face swollen and looking at him with an expression full of helplessness mixed with genuine relief, definitely hooked him.

"Hello, Daniel." The US Air Force Brigadier General's smile was a bit lopsided because of the swelling of his face. "Care to help me cook?"

The contents of those nice pots turned out to be disastrous, as Daniel had secretly been afraid. They would have ended up eating pizza had Daniel not quickly taken over and produced the nicest casserole, salad and spaghetti the boys had ever seen in *their* kitchen.

They ate together with a drooling, lifeless looking Saint Bernard; Brad's constant chattering about his long list of boyfriends, hair coloring experience and, surprisingly, his baseball playing; Charlie's effort of showing off his "eidetic memory" by reciting the atlas of anatomy in Latin; Shane's devotion to Indiana Jones -he was ecstatic when he heard that Daniel was a PhD of Archaeology- and Paul's shy attempt to befriend him.

But somehow, for Daniel, the best of all was seeing Jack O'Neill loving his family and unconsciously adopting him as a part of them. He felt the sincere trust from the General in every discussion they had.

"Dad was planning to make *anatina* but Brad disagreed. He said that *anatinus carnatus* was not good for Paul's stomach," Charlie said seriously.

Jack turned his guileless brown eyes to Daniel and asked helplessly, "What is he talking about, Daniel?"

"He said that you wanted to have duck, but Brad did not think duck fat would be good for Paulie's stomach." He turned to Charlie. "Very impressive, Charlie."

"Don't praise him," Jack whispered quickly.

"I eat Doooonald Duck!" Paul wailed. He pronounced 'Donald' curiously like 'donut'.

"Duck isn't good for anyone here." Brad swept back his curls gracefully then scowled when the lock refused to obey. "I don't feel like jogging to burn the extra calories, tomorrow."

"DONALD DUCK!" Paul howled even louder now and banged his spoon for attention.

"And sweat will ruin the yellow paint." Shane pointed at Brad's quirky hair.

"It's not paint! It's dye!"

"It's a *capilla* paint," Charlie said. "You don't want to jog because your capilla paint will smear and you're afraid that your quadricep femoris will grow bigger." The twins giggled simultaneously.

"Guys!" Jack sighed exasperatedly and turned to Daniel again. "Help me, Danny. What are they saying exactly?" Laughing and feeling warm from the General's sincere hope for him to be his ally, Daniel translated the words *hair* and the slightly incorrect expression of *thigh* from Latin into English for the clueless father.

Jack turned to the twins. "Will you stop talking dirty? Don't embarrass me."

"It's not dirty!" Charlie protested. "Nothing is dirty with the way it sounded. Like *cauda* or *caulis* or *fascinum* or *verpa*."

"That's a mouthful for a ten year old," Daniel chuckled and shook his head.

Shane burst out with laughter, mostly from seeing the suspicion in his father's face.

"Danny?"

"No! Don't translate it, Daniel!" Charlie's eyes widened.

Eyes narrowed dangerously, Jack asked his middle son, "Are they what I think they are?"

"What do you think are they, Dad?" Charlie asked innocently. "Guess!"

"I can give you a hint!" Shane giggled. "Brad said that it was one of his favorite things!"

Brad avoided his father's glare and stared deadpan at his twin brothers. "Let me guess. *Popsicle*?"

The three boys giggled.

"Are you talking about a certain part of anatomy here?" Jack asked coldly.

The three boys snorted, trying hard to stifle their giggles.

"DONALD DICK!" Paul suddenly shouted then gaped when his brothers reacted with an explosion of laughter.

Jack turned his puppy dog eyes toward Daniel. "And they say that sissies, geeks and toddlers aren't dangerous."

"I am not a sissy! I am beautiful!"

"Together they are a lethal combination." Daniel tried to help while trying hard not to laugh.

"Donalddick. Donalddick. Donalddick." Paul clearly enjoyed amusing his brothers with whatever it was.

"I wish you could help me baby-sit them," Jack said. "I'm serious, Daniel. At least you will know the difference between them discussing schoolwork and making fun of you."

The dinner officially ended when Paul, slurping the spaghetti enthusiastically, asked his father, "Can we keep Daniel, Dad?"

Daniel looked at Jack, curious to see his reaction and couldn't help laughing out loud seeing him so totally lost. Especially when the twins proposed a stay over and

Brad gleefully leered at him, "Daddy's bed is *biiiiigggg*, Daniel."

He was really sorry that eventually the moment came when he had to go home.

"I really enjoyed dinner, Jack," Daniel said on the way out.

"Me, too, Daniel. Really," Jack smiled widely. "It's been a while since we have had somebody who could stand all of us."

"They're nice kids," Daniel chuckled.

Before both adults left the house, the children gave him warm farewells, including Paul's glomming onto his back and Brad's kisses, which ceased abruptly when his father gave him a deadly glare.

"As I already said, if you can stand them." But it was clear that Jack was very happy with Daniel's comment, as if the approval was the ultimate thing that he had waited for. "I can't believe how easily you won them over."

They walked slowly along the gravel.

"It's probably male bonding." Daniel was surprised that he had laughed so much that night. "Not to mention that I already had Brad under control."

Jack nodded. "Brad is pretty much mother for his younger brothers. He might look like a spoiled, careless teenager, but he takes care of everything at home."

Daniel turned and got caught in Jack's soft eyes. Suddenly, his heart thumped faster and his face got warm. He quickly averted his eyes, grateful for the dark that hopefully concealed his blush.

"Would you like to come over again soon?" Jack asked when they finally reached Daniel's car.

Daniel grinned, "You bet."

The next morning, he couldn't help himself from telling anyone around him about his *date*. As a part-time teaching assistant in George Washington University,

Daniel was forced to cram himself in a small room with three other people, including Edwina. Luckily, they were genuinely fond of him and tolerated his constant babble about the O'Neills without any problems.

"Daniel, my boy," it was Henry Davidson who finally voiced the collective insights, "I think you're in love."

The rest of them nodded approvingly, despite Daniel's vehement denial and the case was closed.

******************************

"How're the children toward this Daniel?" Sam asked Jack seriously. Daniel Jackson's name had been continuously popping up in Jack's vocabulary for the past month.

She hadn't met him; therefore, her curiosity had been pushed beyond her limit.

"Paul hired him as the family cook," Jack smirked.

"I wondered why we hadn't seen much of him lately," Sam nodded. "You finally got yourself a babysitter, huh?"

"Well, not exactly, but we agreed that he would visit twice a week. Tutoring the twins mostly. Imagine. A teaching fellow, a bartender, a *babysitter*. Sounds like a handy guy, right?"

"Sounds like a man I want to meet." Sam tried to hide her smile.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Already over me, Carter? Watch out for Brad, then. He's already claimed him."

"I thought that he was steady with Tim."

"God, I wish he wasn't!" Jack sighed. "But, yeah. He's still with Tim and still doesn't want to go to college. What I meant was that Brad thinks that I should *marry* Daniel."

"Marry?" Sam's jaw dropped. "Your son *does* have a strange imagination. And don't tell me that this guy is irreversibly gay!"

"Well, he said that he's gay, though I'm not sure about being irreversible," Jack laughed. "I'm not sure that he's into marriage either. I mean… *that* kind of marriage. Let alone with *me*. Don't ever take Brad's ridiculous wording literally, Sam."

Sam went silent.

"Carter?"

She sighed, "Sir?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing... I mean... Never mind, Sir."

Jack stared at his friend, noting the tense lines around her eyes and mouth. "You've been working too hard, Sam."

"S'ppose so. Have you noticed that we only have five more months to go?"

"The Stargate. Ah."

Starting the project was a dream come true for Jack, but somehow, as the fateful date was approaching, excitement turned to wariness. He suddenly remembered that he had four children that he had to move from Washington DC, their home for as long as they could remember. He realized that his new duty station would never allow him to bring Paul occasionally to his work place. He was sworn to secrecy and he wondered if he'd be able to keep secrets from his family. He also wondered whether the adventures would compensate for the risk of him being hurt or killed on duty, and leaving the kids on their own. He shivered.

"Have you really, really thought about it, Jack?" As usual, Sam was reading his mind.

"It's a dream come true, Sam. It beats politicking around here," Jack said grudgingly.

"But, the price is high."

Jack nodded. He looked at his friend closely. "Is that one reason why you never hook up on somebody seriously?"

"Somebody like you?" Sam chuckled. "Maybe. I don't want baggage."

Jack stared sadly at the files strewn across his desk. "My children are everything to me."

"But you want your freedom." Sam nodded wisely.

Jack bit his lip, he then slapped his hand on the desk playfully. "Don't get the impression that the turmoil of my private life will prevent me from going through the Stargate!"

"As long as you remember, Jack. You need to prepare your children as soon as possible."

"Well, thank you, Major." Jack looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. "What do you say about going clubbing?"

"Clubbing?"

"Didn't you mention wanting to meet a certain handsome bartender?"

Sam laughed, "Jack, we still haven't resolved the anthropology expert problem! You've already diverted my attention once!"

"Aha! I knew that you really had gotten over me," Jack grinned. "Judging from those applications and references, none of them caught my interest. Forget about them, Sam."

"Then how are we supposed to get an expert if you kept on ditching them like this? You haven't even looked at them."

"But I've read the biodata," Jack interrupted. "None of them are younger than sixty. I need fit, young people."

"You're almost fifty," Sam said dryly.

"Yet all my son's schoolmates have crushes on me," Jack smirked. "Up until sixty, age was not just simply numbers, you know."

"Vanity is an added factor." Sam shook her head exasperatedly, already knew Jack's answer. "Why the sixty limit?"

"No one still look interesting to highschool kids after sixty."

"Oh, please. You'll say otherwise when you're sixty." Sam laughed, then turned serious. "Honestly, Jack. How do we solve this problem?"

Jack squinted. "Let me think about it later, Sam. Just keep on trying."

"Jack!"

***********************

It was a good thing that it wasn't a theme night at Galore. It meant that the music was neutral enough, no attraction for teenage kids or obnoxious partygoers to come, and the patrons were few.

Jack almost reached the bar when he bumped into Tim.

"General O'Neill! Nice to meet you here." Tim smiled, then nodded politely to Sam.

Jack narrowed his eyes, "Brad isn't here, is he?"

"Nope." The punk winked and leered. "What's the occasion? A hot date?"

"Aarrgh… Mind your own business, will you. Daniel around?"

"As pretty as ever," Tim grinned. "We should put up a cage around that bar."

Jack snorted and quickly led Sam towards the bar. He glared as Tim smirking at him, "I'm telling Brad!"

Sam looked at him. "What does he mean by that?"

"I don't know," Jack lied guiltily.

If there was one thing he felt sorry about was Brad's obvious dislike of his close friendship in Sam. He didn't have the heart to tell Sam about this, as she was genuinely fascinated by his children, and wanted to be close to them.

"There's Daniel!" Jack waved at the man.

Sam stared.

//Okay, he's cute//, she thought. //Scratch that. He is *beautiful*//.

Daniel turned and waved back to Jack, his welcoming smile faltering slightly as he caught sight of Sam.

"Daniel, this is Sam Carter. Sam, meet Daniel." Jack didn't wait long to introduce them.

"Ah, you're the famous Daniel Jackson." Sam gave him her hand.

The feeling of Daniel's hand was surprisingly comfortable. It was warm and dry despite the cold bottles he'd been handling all night long. The bartender gave her his patented smile, aware of the fact that it never failed to charm women.

"Are you free in the next half hour?" Jack asked excitedly. He missed the unreadable, calculating exchange of glances between his two friends.

"Why?"

Sam noted the softness in Daniel's eyes whenever he stared at Jack and felt a funny churning in her stomach. Whatever it was, she didn't think she liked the way the bartender was looking at Jack. Yet, at the same time, she suddenly realized that if the circumstances had been different, she would be hitting on the gorgeous guy herself.

"Let's have dinner together. The three of us. My treat." Jack grinned.

Jack obviously hadn't realized that whatever program he had in mind, Daniel always conveniently had time for him. They agreed to leave in an hour, then the bartender went off to serve other customers.

The music turned to the slow numbers, and the General took Sam to the middle of the floor.

They were dancing for quite a while when Sam accidentally glanced at the bar. She froze for a moment.

Despite being busy and seemingly in constant motion, Daniel was looking at them intently. He quickly averted his eyes once he caught Sam's curious gaze.

The incident was quickly forgotten when they finally got to dinner. Daniel was incredibly charming, and, to Sam's expectations, clicked with her right away. It was clear that the bartender was a very intelligent man, yet, he was as gentle to Jack, who had no clue when it came to academic conversation, as she had. Such gesture evoked feelings of kinship in her.  
  
"Based on Shane's report you're a real life Indiana Jones," Sam said to him.

Daniel stiffened a little, which did not escape Sam's attention.

"I suppose it's a good fantasy when you're ten years old," Daniel smiled, dismissing his initial strange reaction to the question.

"How come you never pursued the archaeological career?"

"And miss the excitement in Galore?" Daniel chuckled. "Maybe some other time. I haven't had an interesting offer, and I don't think I agree with GW research program and plans. I suppose I took the job just out of sentimentality."

"It beats staring at old pots and dry bones," Jack nodded heartily.

"Yet, for whatever reason, he made friends with an old bone anyway down at Galore." Sam poked Jack's rib.

"I am *not* an old bone. I'm a Brigadier General, for Chrissake. Even my rank sounds sexy."  
Daniel watched them banter with a ghost of a smile on his face, but once again, when Sam caught on his eyes, a flicker of shadow appeared in them.

"Then what are you teaching, Daniel?" Sam quickly returned her focus back to the conversation.

"Anthropology."

Jack, who was swallowing his wine, turned toward his friend, who suddenly went silent.

"Uh oh," he said to Sam. "I don't think I'd like to know what's going on inside that head of yours."

Sam was staring at Daniel, and suddenly she blushed. Severely.

"Sam?" Jack gaped. "You're *blushing*! Geez, what was on your mind?"

Sam stuttered awkwardly, "I... uh... nothing."

"Sam." Jack narrowed his eyes, then grinned widely as if a light bulb had appeared above his head. He turned to Daniel, who was looking puzzled.

"Would you believe that our dear Samantha Carter here has a weird penchant for anthropologists? I suppose they turn her on for some odd reason."

"Jack!"

"Sam!" Jack returned it playfully. "Ah, geez, Sam, I've never seen you blush like this. Don't embarrass the Air Force for God's sake. I know Daniel is pretty..."

This time, Daniel blushed furiously.

"... and I know that he's also an anthropologist -your *kind* of kink..." Jack stopped his babbling. Sam was positively burning now.

The General looked at them funnily. "Now, you're both blushing! Daniel, are you sure you're gay? 'Cause I think I'm going to leave you two alone."

Jack playfully started to wrap up his napkin, then burst out laughing when his friends panicked. "Relax, kids. I'll play chaperone for the two of you."

He waited for a moment, then, feeling sorry for Sam, he turned to Daniel. "Okay, maybe Sam fancies you a little, Danny, but the reason is that she's been hunting anthropologists for a whole year and she got excited to finally find one as fine as you."

"Jack," Sam said in a warning tone. But the truth was, what Jack had elaborated was right after all.

The sunken feeling she was experiencing for the first time she met Daniel was frighteningly felt like... Good Lord. Daniel was *not* like she had imagined. He was too good to be true for her liking. And when she found out that he was an anthropologist, a sudden vision of him joining the Stargate Project came unbidden. And to tell the truth, the notion of him being with them all the time was very... Jesus Christ.

She realized that she probably was on the brink of submitting to Daniel Jackson's charm. When she glanced back to Jack O'Neill, and watched her hero smirking playfully as usual, a sudden wave of warmth flooded her chest. The notion of going on adventures with the two of them felt *wonderful*. *Incredibly wonderful*.

Samantha Carter was a serious woman. She was born too intelligent and focused for her own good, that many men had found her boring. She had forsaken her fancy for beautiful men because deep inside her heart, she knew that those men would never come to her. She had forgotten how it felt being swept off her feet, or feeling uncontrollably attracted. Whenever she felt close to someone, it was always resulted from long, comfortable friendships. She was not prepared to be attracted to someone she just met like the way she now felt for Daniel Jackson.

//Did I say attracted?// She hastily banned her mind from dwelling on that thought too deeply, and she finally caught up with Jack and Daniel's conversation.

"Why is the military looking for anthropologists?" Daniel asked.

'"I suppose we need somebody who understands civilization once in a while," Jack answered nonchalantly.

"For a military operation," suddenly Daniel's voice turned cold. It was not missed by his companions.

"You don't approve, I assume," Sam queried.

"I don't mean to offend, but no. I don't. I like you guys a lot, but I don't think I can accept military intervention in human civilization."

"Wow, you have a strong opinion about it," Jack wondered aloud. He had never discussed military life with Daniel before. "I'm sure you know that modern civilisation needs military whether they like it or not."

"Maybe. I agree with the theories and everything, but it doesn't mean I approve. I believe in law and order, but not the importance of the military in modern society."

"Then you're not keen on working with the military? If it's only peaceful mission?"

"Whatever peaceful missions you make, once you've come with guns and ammunitions you might as well wave the peace goodbye." Daniel could no longer control the bitterness in his voice.

Jack and Sam nodded distractedly. Sam sighed silently. She thought that she just as well 'wave the notion of offering Daniel to join Stargate Project goodbye'. The man obviously had experienced some trauma stemming from the military, because his strong opinion sounded more personal than one formed from simple research or an analytical point of view.

She exchanged glances with Jack, who looked at her with comprehending eyes. She didn't doubt that Jack had read her mind correctly and felt her sudden disappointment.

When they were finally alone in the car after dropping Daniel home, Jack turned to Sam and said softly, "He was wonderful, wasn't he Sam?"

His voice was incredibly gentle; it broke her heart for some odd reason. She loved Jack terribly for being there for her, yet, sometimes, she felt immense guilt for liking someone else beside him. She couldn't help feeling that she was betraying the General, though she doubted that Jack would even care. It was just that they had been together so long and there were so many things they had shared, the faithful sentimentality had grown on her.

"Come on Sam, don't be too hard on yourself. You're a human being for God's sake." Jack rubbed her shoulder lightly. "Being attracted to somebody once in a while is healthy. Especially Daniel. Did I tell you that Brad and Tim have huge crushes on him? Not to mention the rest of my family?"

"He's gay, Jack."

"So? I thought such labelling is only proper for the actual act of having sex, Sam, not in the matter of human heart. Gay men can love women as well. They just don't have sex with them. And I suppose it's not a problem anymore lately, you know, with all those toys and everything that's available."

Sam chuckled, "My, you've got an interesting opinion on that, Jack."

"Can't help it," Jack shrugged, and a sad expression came over him. "I still wish that Brad would marry a nice girl someday."

His cell phone suddenly rang. Jack glanced at it and rolled his eyes. "Speaking of Brad."

Sam chuckled when Jack took it and a loud holler echoed from the little phone, "Dad!"

"Yeah, Brad?" Jack smiled. Anyone could see how much he loved his son.

"Yup-" the General unconsciously glancing at Sam with guilty expression. "Yeah, yeah, kid. I'm on my way of going home right now."

Sam felt a sad tingling in her chest. Somehow, she knew that Brad never approved of her as his father's companion for some odd reason.

"No. Who says that? Hey! I'm the one who makes the curfew, for Heaven's sake!" A blush appeared on his cheeks. "Now you listen to me, young man! I have a right to have a good time once in a while, and NO, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO LOCK ME OUT OF MY OWN HOUSE!!"

Sam burst out laughing.

"BRADLEY O'NEILL, THIS IS YOUR FATHER YOU'RE TALKING TO!" The General was positively on fire now. He was listening to the rambling on his phone with his full attention, when finally his eyes went soft. "Yeah, okay. Danny says hi to you, too. Okay. Now, would you mind? Ok, boy. G'night."

He clicked off his phone and grumbled with a deep frown, "That double crossing brat."

"Who?"

"Tim! Who else? I swear..."

Sam laughed loudly when she heard the curses coming from Jack's mouth.

***********************

Edwina watched her friend silently.

Daniel had been very quiet this morning. None of the usual chatter or 'lately' had, since his encounter with the O'Neills. She had been guessing that Daniel was slowly but surely falling in love with the straight, military man, and she had worried about when Daniel finally coming out of his dream haze and finding reality. It seemed like today was the day.

"A penny," she said.

Daniel smiled, already knew that nothing escape his colleague's attention. "I'm in the middle of choosing the best thing to do. Should I re-align or re-adjust my life?"

"Huh?"

Daniel grinned with a hint of embarrassment, and sighed softly. "I suppose I just wonder how I never realized the vast differences between me and Jonathan O'Neill."

"Ah," Edwina said wisely. "Your cute pet project." She cocked her head to one side. "Are you deciding that he's a lost cause?"

Daniel gave her a side glance. "Edwina, I'm not hitting on him."

"Your life certainly revolved around him and his kids lately."

A deep sigh came from the gorgeous man. "I guess. Their world was so perfect from my point of view. I can't help being attracted. It felt like a *calling*"

"Then why the brooding? Whatever differences there are between you and the man won't change anything."

"You speak like a wise mage," Daniel smiled approvingly. "I *do* have a little crush on him, I admit."

He sighed again. "The truth is, I kinda like him just for being a father. I don't think I like him being anything else."

Edwina squinted at him, puzzled. "Daniel. I don't understand."

"When his world only revolves around his family, he seems *peaceful*. Like an oasis in the middle of the desert. Watching him with Sam opens my eyes to the fact that he has another life."  
  
"Sam?"

"Major Samantha Carter. His best friend."

"Ah," Edwina nodded. "You're jealous."

"I'm afraid so," Daniel chuckled grudgingly. "It's not like he's with Sam or anything. It's just that I realize that he's an attractive, straight man who can be interested in women."

"And that women would be interested on him too."

"Yeah. It's kinda surprising how I always pictured him as an unattainable bachelor." Daniel smiled a little sadly. "It gave me a perfect illusion. Not to mention that Sam also reminded me of what he is. A military man. A peaceful man tainted with violence."

"So, did your balloon deflate?"

"More or less."

"We were worried that you would get married to the O'Neills too soon, you know."

"Hey, I enjoy being with them."

"But now you need to get back into circulation," Edwina said with a gleeful excitement in her stomach. His eyes were opened, hurray!

But Daniel looked unenthusiastic. "Maybe."

"You'll get over him, Danny. It's not too late."

"I suppose so." Daniel did not sound too convinced. "He's still the most wonderful man I've ever met, Edwina."

"You've only known him for a month, Danny."

Daniel shrugged. He chewed the end of his pencil thoughtfully and turned his clear eyes toward his friend, who thought she would hyperventilate anytime she was exposed to such a marvelous pair of blue orbs.

"Should I re-align or re-adjust, Edwina?"

"I honestly don't know what you are talking about, Daniel."

"What do you think I should do?"

"Forget about being his lover. You're not sure about him, and I don't think you're madly in love with him yet. Find yourself a less complicated life, then. Don't spend too much time with the kids."

"Re-align, then," Daniel sighed.

"What do you want, Daniel?" Edwina asked curiously.

Daniel did not answer.

**********************

Of course it was not like his life was going to turn upside down. It was true that complication was all in one's mind. He tried to lessen his mingling with the children, but then decided it wasn't part of the problem. He enjoyed being with the children, so why not see them as often as he could? It wasn't like his heart rate doubled every time he met Jack, or bled whenever he smiled at admiring females. Their friendship was easy and comfortable. Nothing to complain about.

After three months of easy friendship, Jack turned incredibly busy. He seldom saw him whenever he babysitted the kids. Instead of despairing over his absence, he accepted it as easy and as simple as that. Jack was no longer available for him to ogle. Just like that. Nothing important was missing.

Or so he thought.

He grew closer to the children, though. To his embarrassment, Paul started calling him "mommy", which quickly became the nickname used by the rest of his brothers.

He had taken over caring for the kids when Jack became unavailable, and not realizing how resembled he was with a real mother figure.

Like tonight.

He was not supposed to bartend Galore tonight. Yet, when Brad announced his intention to attend the Rap Contest there, he had not hesitated to take over someone else's time only long enough to chaperone the hyperactive young man.

He was bartending for a good while when Tim finally showed up.

"Where's Princess Bradley?"

"He'll be here. He just got caught up on something at home." Tim shrugged.

"Oh?" Daniel looked at Tim with searching eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Some argument he had with his dad. I have no idea what it was."

Daniel frowned. Brad? An argument with Jack? That was the most impossible thing he had ever heard. Jack was the *softest* father he had ever seen.

The young man finally appeared and sat quietly on the stool beside Tim. His hair, grown to shoulder length, was braided nicely. Definitely *not* like Brad's usual hip style.

Daniel pushed a glass of Coke to him. "Brad?"

"Hi," he said without real energy. There was shadows in his eyes and it worried Daniel and Tim considerably. Brad had never been like this before.

"Your Dad okay?"

He shrugged. Okay, Daniel thought, it definitely was a father-son problem. He exchanged glances with Tim, who looked helpless.

"Are you going to tell me about it?" Daniel tried again.

Brad was silent for such a long time that Daniel thought he would never answer, when he finally nodded slowly. "Maybe some other time."

Daniel nodded back, trying to look like he was satisfied even though curiosity could kill him at any moment. What was wrong? His heart hammered.

Suddenly a breathy voice grabbed his attention, "Good evening, gorgeous."

He turned quickly.

Michael.

The first thing that came across his mind at that moment was how much he missed seeing his ex-lover. How much he missed his company. How much he missed his lively conversation. How much their break-up didn't change that they were still good friends. That *nothing* had changed.

Michael looked good. And his eyes twinkled happily to see him.

They stared each other for a time, before idiotic grins appeared on their faces.

"Hello, Daniel," Michael said softly.

"Michael," Daniel answered with a broad smile.

A sudden smack of glass on the countertop grabbed his attention, and Daniel turned, startled, in Brad's direction.

Brad stood, saying nothing, then he just left. Tim stared after him strickenly, before, in a panic, he chased after him.

**************************

General Jonathan O'Neill stared silently outside. His car was moving too slow for his liking and darkened his already somber mood. Sergeant Chance Wiley, his adjutant, glanced back several times, then finally asked him, "Do you want to go home or back to Headquarters, Sir?"

Jack pursed his lips. The winter drizzle outside beckoned him to go home and hug his beautiful boys. "Back to the office, I am afraid. But you can go home anytime."

Chance smiled, "Not a chance, Sir. I go wherever you go."

He was being honest. There was not a single high commanding officer at the Pentagon loved by his subordinates more than Jack O'Neill. He treated all of his staff and adjutants like family, a gesture that was returned as affectionately.

"How's the President, Sir?"

As smart ass as he was expected, Jack wanting to say. "Getting trickier than ever. Sitting there too long is a hazard to character development, I'm telling you," Jack said gloomily.

Chance exchanged glances with the driver. It was obvious that something unpleasant had happened to their general. Jack had been very moody lately, and he had seen the President secretly three times in the past month. Something very important as well as interesting must have happened.

They drove inside the Pentagon, and Jack rushed toward his office. As if on cue, five minutes later, Major Samantha Carter appeared. Her face as tense as Jack's, and she did not pay attention to the salutes given by anyone. She went inside Jack's chamber and locked the door.

"I can't believe this," Jack greeted her helplessly. "Why can't they just release me peacefully, instead of making things more complicated?"

Sam stood silently. Her heart sympathized immensely to her friend, but she couldn't do anything about it. She slowly took out a letter from her pocket. "I am afraid I have to go tomorrow."

Jack turned, startled. "So soon?" He sounded genuinely distressed.

"General Hammond ordered me to." Sam avoided his glance. "He needs trustworthy people there as soon as possible. The cold war inside that mountain is unbelievable."

Jack only nodded. They stood silently, lost in thought, when finally Jack turned his sad eyes toward the Major. "I have no choice, do I?"

Sam tried to smile, "Sir, they ask too much from you."

"Yes," Jack said. "But then again, we predicted this anyway. I suppose there's only you and me who saw Stargate Project as a project. The rest got caught up with the greediness and paranoia."

"The Major General didn't." Sam pointed out.

"Ah, yes. Good old general Hammond." Jack sighed. "Do you want to know what the President told me just now?"  
  
Curiousity shone from Sam's eyes. "Yes."

"He said that the newly elected President is going to support the East Wing movement."

There had been a vicious rivalry between the "West Wing" generals and the "East Wing" generals, a grouping popularly being labelled simply because most of those people resided in the respected areas of the Pentagon. Jack was one of the simple military men, the West Wing people, while as far as he knew, the East Wing people were the politicking generals, who were rumored to be invisible conspiracists. The ones who were often accused as the people behind international incidents and political maneuverings as well as world terrorism, who believed in doing everything on the premise of the greater good. Whatever good that was.

As far as Jack was concerned, the East Wing movement was an evil shadow. They were the ones who gave the military a bad name. Gone were the days when combat was simply a face-to-face battle with the agenda as clear as if it had been written on any soldier's forehead. At a time when evil, goodness, democracy, personal interests, hegemonies and common enemies were blurred, nothing was as it seemed. Jack no longer knew whether certain battle operations were for good causes or not. Who knew? Anyone could feed any slogan or belief to young soldiers. They would naively think that they were heroes.

The fact that the newly elected President favored East Wing faction provided Jack some impression that he was the kind that permit anything to achieve whatever they wanted. The newly elected President was brilliant in international diplomacy. Much of the world held him in awe, and many Americans had seen him as a symbol of American heroism. Jack saw him as an egomaniac who thought he was above beyond everyone.

And the Stargate!

The project was too incredible to be true. It opened incredible possibilities. New energy materials. New food sources. New technology. New allies.

New *wealth*.

Anyone would have wanted the Stargate for their own reasons. And Jack was very sure that he was now caught in the swirling turbulence of sophisticated rivalry about who would be sitting inside Cheyenne Mountain and conquering that new wealth -East Wing or West Wing faction.

"Who's your competitor, Sir?"

"General Maybourne."

Ah, Sam thought, a personal battle indeed. A very ironic twist. Everyone knew that Maybourne was a bitter rival of Jack's for as long as they had served their country.

"Playing hard and cruel, Jack," Sam nodded. The powers-that-be could have chosen anyone else to be Jack's competitor, yet, it seemed that they wanted some amusement in making this a personal battle.

"We are gladiators," Jack said gloomily.

"Or roosters in a cockfight," Sam said. "Surely they can be more elegant than this."

"It's human nature, Sam. People are basically bloodthirsty. If there's a chance of a spectacular fight, why not do it? It's bloody cheap, efficient, and entertaining, too. If I or Maybourne lose this, people will only see that as a personal defeat, not the whole faction. We represent nothing except ourselves in this game."

"You'll both be turned into scapegoats."

"I know," Jack said. "Now all I worry about is how to make Maybourne the scapegoat of the scapegoats. I can't let the Stargate project out of my grasp."

"Then what did the President suggest you to do?"

"Believe it or not, he's putting me in the Iraq Operation."

Sam gasped. "Jack?"

"It's a gamble, Sam. Now all you can do to help me point out which one is best, me as the field general or the tactical operation general? For your information, the choices were also given to Maybourne as well."

Sam stared with disbelief and horror. "Jack, I don't know what to say."

"Yup. Me and Maybourne are going on honeymoon in Iraq together. Isn't that fun? We're suppose to show the world who's the worst loser."

Sam breathed slowly, but she could not help it. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. No, she thought. This was not *fair*. Jack should not be caught up in this.

Jack. The man who loved life even after all this violence.

"Sir, you can refuse."

"And lose Stargate for good? Sam, you know how much damage these people can do to the Project. Not to mention the harm they may cause to human life in general."

"But Jack, that means that you're..." Sam could no longer continue.

"Yes, Sam," Jack said with a desperate sadness. "The operation was meant to be a doomed one. It's meant to show the world who screwed up what. *That* was behind the idea of making it a personal competition between me and Maybourne."

"Oh, my God." Her tears spilled on her cheeks.

Jack looked at her closely. "I'm glad you'll be away soon. I don't want you to get caught up in this."

"Jack." She took him in her arms.

***********************

It was funny how easily Michael came back in his life.

The man just showed up one night, they had a great conversation -something that Daniel missed immensely- and suddenly, he was appearing every night.

Just as Daniel had known. Nothing seemed to change.

Oh, they hadn't slept together yet. He wasn't that easy. But surely they were heading in that direction. Michael had already trapped him in making-out sessions, and it was pleasant enough for him to let it continue.

If there was one thing that kept Daniel from giving up to his hormones too soon it was a funny feeling that he was betraying someone.

Jack.

Michael had questioned him one night, when Shane called him and asked his help for his homework. He heard the child called him 'mommy' playfully, and it certainly piqued his curiosity. Strangely, Daniel felt very defensive over the fact. He was truly put out when Michael chided him about it, saying that it was not healthy to give out false hopes to motherless children.

"Why do you get so worked up whenever I ask about O'Neill's children?" Michael asked him.

Daniel was silent.

"I think that you actually *want* to be their *mother*," Michael finally voiced his opinion.

Daniel did not answer.

After that conversation, Michael was campaigning for Daniel to know the truth about Jack O'Neill. He put a lot of effort into digging out any information about Jack and presenting it to Daniel.

"The man most probably used to be a black-ops member. He has blood on his hands," Michael said to him one night.

Daniel only shrugged, then quickly changed the subject.

And then the questions took a turn in the other direction.

"Are you fancying him, Daniel?"

"What do you possibly see in him? The military has been your biggest phobia since childhood."

"I think you're deluding yourself with this father image."

"Are you sure you're not *in* love with him?"

Boy, Michael had really turned nosy after their break up. Yet, instead of making Daniel go into denial, it had helped him realize some things.

As usual, it was Edwina who gave him a clue. "You're turning into Fran Fine."

"Who?"

"Have you seen the TV series, 'The Nanny'?"

Tonight, the weather was nice, for winter. The drizzle was cleaning up the streets, the mist evoking a melancholy feeling, and Michael had been very cuddly. It was a comfortable night to Daniel's point of view. Which was why he didn't mind at all when Michael started kissing him hotly.

They were seriously making out when, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"Did you order pizza?" Michael grumbled.

"No." Daniel slowly extricated himself from Michael's clutches. He didn't pay too much attention to tucking his shirt back into his pants. He guessed that it was one of his neighbours asking for some help.

Nothing prepared him enough to see Brigadier General Jack O'Neill in front of his door.

"Jack!"

Jack looked at the dishevelled appearance and the swollen lips, and watched as Daniel desperately put his body in the doorway, trying hard to conceal anyone inside from his sight. The General felt a pang in his chest.

"I'm interrupting you," he apologized.

"No!" Daniel said quickly without thinking.

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"I mean... I... I..." Stuttering to silence, Daniel realized the absurdity of his situation.

"I can come back some other time," Jack rescued him. He couldn't help feeling warm when Daniel hesitated. Despite obviously entertaining someone hot inside, the man looked genuinely like he wanted to invite him in.

"Jack," Daniel said helplessly. He realized that he wished Michael would just disappear. "Is something wrong?" Jack looked tired and *distraught*.

"I'll call you later, Danny." Jack smiled at him. However, the sad smile proved to be Daniel's undoing.

"Don't go too far," Daniel said without hesitation. "Wait for me at Tony's Pizza down at the corner. I'll see you there in 10 minutes."

"Danny..."

"Wait for me, Jack," Daniel said sternly and closed the door. Jack sighed and obeyed.

In the meantime, Daniel had already found Michael standing with his jacket on.

"Mike," he said apologetically.

"I know, I know. Prince Charming needs some rescue. I know when I'm no longer wanted, Danny."

"It'll probably only take a little while, Mike. You can wait here," Daniel said halfheartedly.

Michael t'sked him and said exasperatedly, "Daniel, whatever mood you had before King O'Neill came as surely evaporated by now. I can come back tomorrow."

"Oh," Daniel nodded, wondering if Michael's visiting tomorrow was a good idea. "We'll see then. Thanks." He then opened his door. "Sorry."

"No harm done. I can wait forever, you know."

Despite his good natured goodbye, Michael left with a defeated posture. But Daniel didn't feel guilty for long. He grabbed his jacket and keys, and bounded down the stairs.

How long had it been since he had talked *only* to Jack?

Forever. They were either being interrupted by the kids or Sam, or that Jack was just passing through, with no time to speak.

He couldn't help feeling excited. Hey, he thought, a man could have a crush once in a while, couldn't he?

Tony's was deserted, Jack was the only occupant of the small restaurant. He was sitting beside the huge window, his graying hair glowing in the neon light. Daniel watched as Jack smiled at him, and felt his own broaden in return.  
  
It was so good to be with Jack, finally.

"I saw him," Jack winked.

"Who?"

"Your squeeze."

"Michael?"

"He purposely passed over and scrutinized me through the window. I just knew it was him I interrupted just now."

That was certainly typical of Michael, Daniel thought. His ex was actually a possesive lover. However, thinking that being a jealous, passionate man degraded him, Michael always denied it. Just like he always denied them having a deeper relationship than just being friends.

"Are you alright, Jack?" Daniel looked at him thoroughly. Jack *did* look distraught. "I haven't seen you for a while."

"Hmmm." Jack only gave him a slight smile. "Here I am."

"You haven't answered my question."

"Oh, for crying out loud. Can't I just visit you once in a while?"

"You've never visited me before. And Generals are unlikely to consider this place a nice hangout. I know you. What's going on?"

Jack sighed.

"Brad's been pretty upset lately," Daniel pointed out, knowing that waiting for Jack to really talk was a lost cause. He watched the man's eyes turn even sadder.

"My sensitive boy." He smiled. "I think he disliked the idea of me sending him to college."

"I doubt it's the only reason he's so upset. If that was the situation, he would have probably won the argument by now."

"I sort of... forced him to. I got him a baseball scholarship."

Daniel's eyes widened. "A *baseball* scholarship?"

Jack laughed to see the incredulous expression, "Didn't he ever tell you that he was one of the best shortstops in the junior league here?"

"Brad?" Daniel said with disbelief. That boy never failed to amaze him.

"He thought that wasn't worth bragging about," Jack chuckled. "He might act effeminate some times, but believe me, he's all butch." Then he grimaced, "Except that he  dated all his teammates last year."

"He can turn down the scholarship if he wants."

Jack shook his head, "Not likely. It's the only thing he can do if he wants to keep in touch with us on everyday basis cheaply."

Daniel looked at Jack with surprise. The General suddenly found the pattern of the tabletop interesting. Daniel felt his heart hammer uncomfortably. "What do you mean by that, Jack?"

"We're planning to move," Jack said, almost whispering. "To Colorado."

The silence was deafening.

"Move?" Daniel felt like his throat being crushed. "Why?"

"It's a good place to grow up," Jack smiled, but lost it when he caught Daniel's gaze. Daniel thought vaguely, that whatever it was showing on his face, it certainly unnerved Jack. "It's still tentative, you know," Jack quickly added.

"Why?"

Jack exhaled loudly. "Let's just say that I want a change in my career."

"What's in Colorado?" Daniel asked hoarsely. He couldn't believe this. Jack's moving, he thought. He felt like he had lost his soul. "You're in a top position here in the Pentagon."

Jack smirked, "Don't dwell too much on that, okay, Danny?"

"I hate the military," Daniel blurted out with venom. "It ruins everything."

Including *my* life, Daniel thought. He realized that he would no longer be a part of the O'Neill's household. The concept was suddenly too painful to think about.

"Aww, come on. It's not such a big deal. Don't overblow it." Yet, it looked like Jack was not so convinced himself. Then he took a deep breath. "Actually, Daniel, I want to ask for your help."  
  
Daniel, already feeling bereft, stared at the man questioningly.

"I need you to be with my children for a while," Jack swallowed. "I might not be present for some time."

"Colorado?"  
  
"No. I told you, our move to Colorado is still tentative."

"When are you leaving?"

"After Christmas. You'll come to celebrate with us, won't you?"

"Where will you go?"

"Danny. It's classified."

Daniel stared blankly. "I thought Generals only worked in the Pentagon."

Jack laughed, "Who gave you that idea? No, we still go on missions once in a while."

"What mission?" Daniel felt himself growing faint. He had a sense of foreboding. Jack was not... *happy*. He couldn't go anywhere when he was as distraught as this.

"Are you going to be all right?"

Jack watched him with surprise. "What do you have going on in your mind, Daniel Jackson? I'm not going to hell. I just have to finish some meetings abroad."

Daniel nodded. "Then how long will you be away?"

"Probably two weeks." Jack cocked his head to one side. "Would you be willing to stay in my house during my absence?"

"No problem," Daniel said softly. As long as you're back in one piece, he thought.

"I don't mean to be imposing."

"You're not."

"You can bring that guy for a visit once in a while, but watch out for Brad's bitching. And don't do anything in front of the kids."

Daniel gave him a little smile. "Michael's only a friend."

Jack chuckled, "We're friends, and we're not kissing."

"Not for lack of wanting on my side," Daniel smirked and ducked when Jack threw a paper napkin at him playfully.

"You wish," Jack laughed.

"I'm still wishing." Daniel felt an immensely relief when he realized that Jack accepted his flirting easily. "You look incredibly kissable, General."

There were bright twinkles in Jack's eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Danny boy."

They left the restaurant after midnight. Jack walked slowly toward his car, then turned to stare at Daniel.

"I am glad I found you, Daniel," he suddenly said.

Pain shot through Daniel's chest. A bad sign, he thought. He gasped softly, realizing that it had made his eyes burn.

"Please be all right, Jack," he said. "You can say anything you want to, but trust me, I think I know what you're going to do."

Jack stared at him intently, and for a moment, Daniel thought he saw a flicker of something in the brown eyes.

"Will you be careful?" Daniel was no longer able to conceal his anxiety. It was suddenly too much for him. Jack had announced his family's move; Jack was going on a mission -a dangerous military mission, no doubt. Since when was a General assigned to the field unless it was a highly classified situation?

Jack nodded solemnly, then, trying to look cheerful said, "Prepare yourself for the Christmas Party, then. Buy lots of present, okay?"

***************************

It was a great Christmas Party.

Jack watched his family secretly from the corner of his eyes. Daniel was obeying Paul's orders to change the decoration. He had accepted Jack's invitation to stay over for the night, and the kids were ecstatic. The twins were already occupied with the Playstation, while criticizing Paul's directions in Latin. He shook his head, amused.

He still couldn't understand a word of the foreign language, but he let it go. After all, wasn't it a sign about how intelligent the twins were?

And Brad? His oldest son was on the phone all night. All his fans were calling him. Typical. Yet, he was visibly unhappy.

Jack sighed. Up until now, he couldn't understand Brad's eerie empathy with him. He only offered the scholarship to him, and suddenly his oldest son was jumping to conclusions. Correct ones, he shivered. Brad pleaded for him to not take chances with a *dangerous* career move, and Jack wondered how he could have ever come up with such an idea.

"They wouldn't remove you from your position unless something fishy was happening, Dad," Brad had said to him. "Does the Pentagon regard you as a threat?"

Jack remembered how dismayed he was with Brad's insight. Still, the young man was persistent.

"What's so important in Colorado? What mission are you supposed to head over there? That place is dead!"

"If you don't want to go to college there, you can find one here," Jack offered half-heartedly. He couldn't imagine being separated from Brad.

"I won't." Brad was near tears. "I'm scared to let you go, Dad. This doesn't feel right."

Now, he wondered how to break the news of him going away to them. He had had trouble sleeping lately. Somehow, he knew there was a possibility of him not coming back from Iraq. It was either him or Maybourne. The upper echelons thought that the easiest way to pick the one who would work on the Stargate Project was by disposing of the other one. And what a way to do that. How dirty.

He had spent a considerable amount of time preparing everything. A will. Trusts for his children. He wondered about putting Daniel's name as his children's legal guardian along with Sam's and General Hammond's. He was very sure that Sara's parents would contest that.

But Iraq wasn't the only thing that he was worried about. He doubted that sending him and Maybourne to Iraq was the only thing the rivaling powers had in mind for them. He worried about his family's safety and honor. Sending them to Colorado as soon as possible sounded more and more inviting. Colorado was Hammond's territory, and he trusted him to take care of his children with all his heart.

"Dad?"

Jack swiveled around and saw Brad leaning on the refrigerator. His son had grown out his brown hair in the latest fashion. However, he had abandoned styling his hair lately. Jack realized that it had happened since his first hint of them moving to Colorado, and wondered just how upset Brad was over this.

He loved the way Brad looked right now. He liked seeing his hair so loose and shiny. It fell down his son's shoulders heavily, yet, silkily, making him look like an angel.

Making him look too much like Daniel.

"Yes, Brad?" He beckoned his son to come over, and despite being a teenager, Brad quickly tucked himself inside his father's arms like a small boy.

"I love you," Brad mumbled to his father's chest.

Jack felt his eyes stinging, and he squeezed Brad tightly, kissing the top of his head. "I love you too, Brad."

"Daniel is wonderful, Dad."

"Yes, he is," Jack agreed and felt warm. Daniel had made him feel good lately for some unknown reason. Come to think of it, he had made him feel good since the first time they met.

"He hinted that you're going away." Brad buried his face deeper to his father's chest.

Ah, Danny, Jack sighed silently. He rubbed his son's back absently, at a loss for words on how to explain that. He felt Brad release him slowly.

"Let's go to the living room, Dad. We're going to sing and dance now."

"Ugh," Jack grimaced and watched his son grin. Together they joined the band of merry O'Neills.

The twins were already sitting side by side at the piano. Music was Shane's talent. He was warming up by stretching both arms upward and wiggling his fingers, while shouting, "I'm ready! I'm ready!"

Daniel caught his eyes, smiling, and Jack wondered again about how beautiful he thought Daniel's blue eyes were. He had never noticed things like that before, especially in a man.

He released Brad and joined Daniel on the sofa, preparing himself for the small concert his boys were about to start.

It didn't turn out too badly. Shane's piano playing was decent, despite Charlie's attempt to sabotage it. Paul sang like a three year old, loud, enthusiastic and out of tune, no surprise there. However, the highlight was when Brad performed rock'n'roll Christmas carols in an operatic style. Laughing heartily, Jack was constantly amazed with his oldest son's ability to charm everyone.

Finally, the children turned to the adults with gleeful expressions.

"Mommy and Daddy dancing!" Paul screamed his suggestion with delight. Charlie had run to start the stereo and came back looking excited.

"Yeah! Yeah!"

Jack looked at Daniel, who had a 'who, me?' expression written all over his face.

Brad giggled, "Come on you guys, quickly. We don't want to disappoint the Lilliputians, do we?"

"Shut up, Gulliver," Jack groused.

The music blared into something awfully familiar. Jack rolled his eyes. "Ricky Martin?"

"Now, Dad, we're the ones in charge. No protests," Brad said. "Besides, you can imitate his hip wiggle perfectly. We want you to show Daniel that."

Daniel burst out laughing, "Hip wiggle?"

"Where the hell that come from?" Jack frowned playfully toward the giggling boys. "I don't *wiggle*"

"Yes you do!" Shane said. "You always wiggle when you're just out of the shower."

"But you sing badly!" Charlie added.

"Guys!" Jack said in a warning tone.

"Dad was *hot*, Daniel." Brad wiggled his eyebrows toward the amused Daniel. "Imagine him wet, towel clad, bare-chested, and doing a samba dance."

"Hmmmm," Daniel hummed with slit eyes. "I certainly can imagine that."

"Daniel, there're kids around," Jack said in a low tone and glared at Brad. "Brad, don't give him ideas."

"Come on!" Brad started dancing himself. Paul jumped up and down excitedly. "Charlie, Shane, get the adults here!" Brad clapped his hands.

It was embarrassing, of course, and it turned out that the kids were more enthusiastic in dancing themselves than watching their father and guest strutting their stuff.

However, Jack finally managed to get over his shyness and reluctantly obeyed Brad's constant nag to wiggle his hips. Daniel roared with laughter shamelessly.

Then, when the merryment died down, and the CD changed into a soft music, Brad swept an exhausted Paul into his arms and slow danced. The twins followed, though they argued about who was stepping on who's toes.

Jack turned to Daniel, who watched him closely with light shining in his eyes, and stretched out his arm. "Shall we?"

//It wasn't all that different//, Jack thought. Daniel was the largest dancing partner he had ever had, not to mention the least *curvy*, but his body molded into him perfectly. When they started to sway together half-playfully, Jack forgot that he was supposed to feel awkward and shy. He had always felt that way before whenever he had asked somebody to dance. But not now. Whatever barrier he had expected between him and Daniel was just simply not there.

//And he smells nice//, Jack mused. The hair brushing his cheek was silky, and the arms circling his waist loosely were warm and strong. It felt nice.

"This is nice, Jack," Daniel whispered.

"Yeah." Jack could not agree more. Somehow, in his mind, the lights dimmed and the noises of his twins arguing heatedly ceased.

Daniel chuckled softly. His shaking body felt incredibly pleasant in Jack's arms. "I never imagined dancing like this with a General."

"Beats me," Jack nodded and felt his head brush Daniel's cheek lightly. "I haven't dance like this for decades."

"Then the gender of your partner doesn't matter, eh?" Daniel withdrew his head from Jack's shoulder to stare into Jack's eyes. He grinned with amusement.

"I suppose so," Jack smiled. He glanced toward his indifferent children. "*I* haven't noticed the difference anyway. And neither have these brats."

"You should get a life." Daniel softly put his head to Jack's shoulder. He tightened his arms around Jack's waist a little, catching Brad's gleeful expression behind his father's back. The young man quickly pretended to be occupied elsewhere. He knew a moment when he saw one.

"I wonder what your boyfriend would think if he saw you and me like this?" Jack wondered aloud. He honestly wondered what people would see when they saw them together. Not like it mattered that much anyway. Daniel was just... Daniel. And Brigadier General O'Neill never dwelled on anything wonderful too deeply, let alone make it more complicated by thinking too much.

He could feel another chuckle.

"I told you, he's not my boyfriend," Daniel mumbled to his shoulder. "And I don't dance like this with my friends."

"Oh?" Jack stopped dancing. Daniel lifted his head and stared back at him.

"Then, what am I to you?" The General curiously watched him.

Daniel smiled, his face beaming like a sun burst from a cloud.

"You're my imaginary husband."

Jack stared.

There was something. Something felt strange, he decided. He vaguely realized that it felt like he was flying to the moon.

"Mommy," he grinned, mocking gently, using his sons' nickname for Daniel.

Daniel beamed even more. The wider smile positively blinded Jack, and he returned playfully, "Daddy."

When Jack finally took the twins and the toddler to be tucked inside their beds, Brad went over to Daniel.

"Here." He handed a branch of mistletoe to the bartender solemnly. His expression was serious. "Marry my father and don't ever let him go, please."

Daniel stared at the brimming young eyes before him and accepted the twig. Regardless of how Brad expressed it, the plea was genuinely full of sorrow and childlike desperation. He was very moved.

"You know I can't promise you that."

A small tear dropped. Brad hastily wiped it with the back of his hand. "At least bind him. You're all we've got to keep him home."

Daniel watched him closely, and at that moment, he made a secret vow to never, ever let the O'Neills go away from him.

"I'll do my best," he promised, deciding that he was in love with Brigadier General Jonathan O'Neill after all.

*******************************

Two days later, Daniel was standing at the porch step of O'Neill's residence with Paul sobbing helplessly in his arms.

Jack watched his family with a heart shattered to pieces. He was actually fighting hard not to break into tears. The twins refused to release him, and Brad was stoic and pale. He felt like hell had already come upon him.

"Oh for crying out loud," he tried to groan lightheartedly. "Why the somber faces? I'll call you all on New Year's eve, okay?"

"Yeah, Dad. Fine," Brad answered in a flat tone. His oldest son had spent all night crying to sleep. He tried hard to convince his son that he was just going abroad for official stuff, but Brad had refused to believe him. Somehow, his son's sixth sense had exposed his lies. Not to mention the fact that his son had caught him packing his combat gear. His explanation was too lame for a child, let alone a smart eighteen year old.

He hugged his sons again, squeezing them long and hard before pushing them away, and wishing that he never had to release them again.

He finally turned to Daniel. Somehow, his friend who had become his newest family member knew things as well. Probably Brad had informed him of his findings.

There were shadows in his eyes, and his cheeks were sunken.

"Daniel," Jack said softly with a sorrow he could no longer hide. "Keep an eye on them, will you?"

Daniel stretched his free arm and pulled Jack's collar hard. The General stumbled a little and found himself face-to-face with his friend. A friend that suddenly leaned forward and kissed his lips with a bruising intensity.

"Come back safely." Daniel released him as quickly as he kissed him.

Dazed, Jack could only nod. The lingering feeling of Daniel's soft lips turned his mind into a muddle. He took his luggage and walked slowly toward the waiting car, where Chance Wiley sat inside and pretended to see nothing.

He waved with sorrow and once the car had started to move he kept on looking through the window, refusing to let them out of his sight.

******************************

New Year's Eve

The news broke out that President Saddam Hussein had been killed in a sudden terrorist ambush, and information concerning chemical and biological bombs had been uncovered.

No one knew who the terrorists were because they were found mutilated beyond identification. Speculation abounded. Some analysts said that they were American black-op soldiers, sent to assasinate the Iraqi president, defuse the viral bombs, and uncover the secret chemical warfare factory.

The President of the United States, in his last days in office, officially denied any US involvement in the matter, but openly praised the discovery which allowed them to close the chemical factory and transport the biological weapons to secured locations. Iraq was now in a state of emergency, but the new government had signalled that a proper election would be held in a month or two, and officially requested the lifting of international economic ban.

As for the terrorists, information was being held tightly, but rumors became wild when, after announcing his government's denial over the incident, the President and the Secretary of Defense conducted a thorough reshuffling of the Air Force Command.

Jonathan O'Neill's name disappeared from the Pentagon Headquarters list.

Wrapped tightly in terror, the O'Neill family stared at the media circus and the wild speculation on the television, all the time wishing desperately for the telephone to ring with greetings from a much loved, and much wanted person's voice.

Finally, as the fireworks exploded beautifully around them, cars honked joyfully outside their house, as people screamed 'Happy New Year', the doorbell rang.

Jolted from their reverie, and frozen with terror and anxiety, the children stared at Daniel. Looking lost and hopeful, Paul broke the silence. "Is it Daddy, mommy?"

Daniel, suddenly shaking, rose quickly. He was quickly followed by Brad, who had gone as pale as a corpse.

The door was opened, and there they were. Major Samantha Carter. And some other people they did not recognize.

Only one look was needed.

Sam was pale and her eyes were bloodshot red. There was indescribable sorrow etched deeply across her face.

"Sam?"

"Daniel," she said in a hoarse voice, then her eyes panicked when Brad appeared.

"Where's Dad?" the young man asked tremblingly.

Sam turned her eyes toward Daniel. Pleading.

"I'm sorry."

"NO!" Brad wailed.

And Daniel felt as if the earth had opened beneath his feet and swallowed them forever in darkness.

***************************

The snowstorm this year was the worst one in almost five years. It left the city immobile for almost a week. The freezing temperature hadn't lifted; therefore, the left over snow turned into hardened ice, making DC dangerous for driving.

It did nothing to Daniel's resolution to move his stuff to the O'Neill's house, though. The VW Beetle had slipped three times already during his various treks to move his things. He could have just waited until the ice melted, but he didn't think he could stand Michael's disapproving frown over his decision nor answer questions from everybody else. Besides, he knew that if he had waited, logic would have superseded the emotional impulse, and he would have lost the courage to do this. He wondered why he was so resolute that this was the right thing to do.

"Tell me why?" Michael's voice had been very quiet on the phone.

"It's the kids."

"They're not yours, for heaven's sake."

"I can't explain," Daniel whispered. In fact, he just no longer had the energy to speak, let alone debate.

"Daniel," Michael sighed. "You're a good person. But it doesn't mean that you have to be a saint."

"I'm not trying to be a saint."

"They have their own family and relatives to take care of them. You, of all people, do not have the right to take over their responsibility."

"It's just for a while."

"How long is 'a while'?"

"Until there's confirmation."

"About?" Daniel knew that Michael already knew what he meant. Still, it was just like him to expect a verbal explanation about things that were best left unsaid. Or too painful to say.

"About Jack's death."

There was a long silence. Daniel could hear the soft intake of breath on the other side, and felt a sense of lost he could not fathom. He felt strangely confused and alone.

"Daniel, are you in love with him?"

Daniel swallowed. "I don't know." He meant that. He might be falling in love to Jack, but he was not sure about that either. He felt as if his heart had been breaking to pieces since Jack had been declared Missing In Action, yet his real grief came from the children's sorrow.

"I do love the kids, though," Daniel said softly and truthfully. "They've adopted me. I can't let them down."

"Let them down--- Oh geez, Daniel." Michael sighed loudly. "I suppose that explains enough."

"Yeah, I suppose so." Daniel nodded. "I'm a desperate orphan, Michael. Their adopting me has been a source of fulfillment for all of us."

"Not exactly," Michael gave him a soft snort. "Some people don't want to give up their freedom. You just want to belong. You aren't strong enough to be on your own despite your independence; therefore, you're always searching for a place to belong. Or people who want to belong to you."

"Maybe." Daniel felt a sting of tears in the back of his eyes. "But I'm not just looking for a 'place' or 'people'."

"What are you looking for?"

//A home//. Daniel wanted to say that, but he kept silent.

Now, however, the house had lost its warmth, and the children had lost their charm. Sorrow, fear, and terror emanated from every corner of the place. He had been desperately trying to console the children's hysteria, but he knew that it was not purely selfless. A big part of it came from the irresistible need to restore that feeling of home that he craved. Somehow, it felt like an act pure of selfishness.

And when he found himself crying to sleep, he realized now that it was Jack who made the house feel like home. He couldn't replace him. It was Jack who had become his home. And he wanted him back as desperately as the children did.

//Daniel, are you in love with him?//

//I don't know//. He replayed his answer in his head again. //All I know is that my world has collapsed since he's been gone//.

Cursing the weather and his old tires, Daniel avoided another dangerous slide. He parked the Beetle five blocks from Jack's house. He was tired as hell, and he thought that walking the rest of the way might save his energy and nerves.

He jumped out of the car and collected the remaining bags. His small duffle slipped from his grasp. Exasperated, Daniel rearranged himself and the bags on his arms.

He couldn't reach it without him putting down some of the stuff he carried. He stared vehemently at the small duffle, wishing it would move by itself and jump into his hand.

"Let me get it," a polite voice surprised him.

Daniel turned and smiled at the man, wearing a heavy long coat and thick scarf, who leaned down to retrieve his small bag. He lay the strap of the bag in Daniel's free hand.

"Thank you," Daniel nodded.

The man didn't answer, only politely nodded back and then walked briskly ahead of him. Daniel started to walk quietly, but something suddenly disturbed him. He tried to think of what it could be, but shook it off when he could not explain his sudden wariness.

It wasn't until he reached the house that Daniel realized that he had seen the man before.

He stared silently out the window, and finally noticed an unfamiliar black car parked two houses away across the street.

He knew that he was being followed.

*********************************

The gigantic Maverick Batting Cage had opened just before winter. The fact that the place had a great indoor field and was equipped with an adequate heater, proven to be a boon to the owners this cold and blustery winter. The place was packed almost every night, kids mingling with fat bellied men, university students, and wannabe leaguers. All of them competed for a place to hit little white balls all over the place.

The first time Brad showed up, he had drawn a crowd simply because he was very nice to look at. A gang of teenage girl fans had formed and slowly grew during the days he regularly visited. The fact that he was widely known as the most flamboyant gay teenage around Potomac did nothing to deter them, rather the girls had bonded with the teenage boys admirers, thus making his flock of faithful fans colorful.

For a while, he was admired mostly for his physical features, but then, the fans changed. The other visitors no longer ignored him when he began to make hard hits.

Great, harsh, hard, *destructive* hits.

Ever since that fateful night, when the man he loved most, his father, was declared missing, the batting cage had turned into his personal battlefield, the balls and the green mesh his enemies.

Just like tonight.

Hair tied tightly into a ponytail, Brad screamed three line drives over the length of the batting tunnel. He cried whenever his bat connected, and most of his balls hit the mesh hundreds of feet away down the tunnel, making it jingle as the balls dropped lifelessly.

Tim was watching him silently at the corner of the field, listening to the mutters of other spectators.

"The kid'll blow the machine," one man said to another.

"Just where the hell does that kind of rage come from?" the other asked quietly.

Rage.

Tim sighed. He had never seen Brad like this before, and he was despairing over it. Not only had the beautiful, seductive young man turned hard, he had turned cold toward everyone. Including him.

Suddenly, Brad screamed.

Tim jumped from his seat to see what had happened when the ball streaked in a flat white line, hit the mesh, and went *through*.

"Jesus Christ!" he heard the one of the men cry.

He stared silently toward the perfect hole that the ball had left behind. He turned, dazed, toward Brad, his breath catching to see him standing like a statue. Strands of hair had escaped the rubber band, giving an eerie impression of fiery snakes, like a Medusa. When the young man turned toward the sudden silence behind him, Tim caught the blazing light from his eyes and shivered.

His baby had turned into an avenging archangel.

***********************

"At ease, Major," Major General Hammond nodded tiredly toward Samantha Carter. "Follow me, please?"

Sam walked along Jack O'Neill's long-time friend quietly. They had been around the headquarters twenty four hours a day, except when Sam went off to see the O'Neill children. She was tired, deeply sorrowed, yet wired. She couldn't sleep and eat properly, alert all the time, simply because she couldn't stand not knowing.

"Any news about General O'Neill, sir?" she asked again for the millionth time.

Hammond sighed, "No. However, I have requested that you have access to the information. That will save me from repeated questions." The General gave her a soothing smile.

Sam swallowed, "Thank you, sir."

"In the meantime," Hammond said. "There is a decision at the Stargate Project."

"Which is what, Sir?"

"Maybourne is taking over SG-1."

Sam was silent for a long time. When they finally reached the office for Brigadier General Jonathan O'Neill, she said, with despair evident in her voice, "He finally gets what he wants, doesn't he?"

Hammond only shook his head fleetingly.

The administrative office was very subdued. The air was thick with sorrow and grief, which did not surprise him one bit. Everybody knew how loyal Jack's administrative staff was. Yet, when he encountered Sergeant Chance Wiley, he was surprised to see malice in his eyes.

"General Maybourne is inside, Sir," he said with open contempt. The way the adjutant had spoken the name sounded like a curse.

Hammond exchanged glances with Sam, and proceeded toward Jack's room. The sight that greeted him almost made him explode in anger. Papers, files, folders, all thrown recklessly all over the place. It was as if Maybourne, now that he finally had the opportunity to express his hatred towards the missing general, perpetrated his revenge on Jack's private world.

Maybourne looked up when both people were inside, saluted Hammond halfheartedly, and sighed loudly. "Would you believe this shit, Sir?"

"What are you talking about?" Hammond narrowed his eyes. He just couldn't imagine having this man as his second in command. They had nothing in common, and they didn't respect each other.

Maybourne showed a folder with CLASSIFIED boldly printed on top. "The man mixed up important stuff with non classified materials." Then he glanced quickly toward

Sam. "Just like him mixing business with pleasure."

Sam tried hard for not snorting audibly.

"What are you doing, Maybourne?" Hammond asked. "You haven't been given permission to do this."

"Yes, I have, Sir," Maybourne smirked. "I am officially the Team Leader of SG-1. Appointed one hour ago, if you care. And I have every right to acquire all files regarding the Stargate Project."

"Those files have been returned to my office. Trust me, Maybourne, you won't find a thing in there," Hammond said.

The Brigadier General shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. So far, I've retrieved complete data on Stargate mission team members out of this rubbish. I don't regard that finding as unimportant."

Hammond gritted his teeth and took a step forward. "Put these files back into their original places, Maybourne." His voice was low and dangerous.

Maybourne shook his head, "General, I have hopes for us working together, Sir." He turned toward Sam and smirked, "I do have a question, though for you, Major, how come I haven't found the name of the anthropology expert?"

Hammond, curious himself, turned towards Sam.

Sam, stood frozen with face flushed from anger, stared at both men defiantly. "That's because the information has yet to be confirmed, Sir."

"Now, now, my dear Samantha, you know that it isn't wise to leave your superiors uninformed. You could get courtmartialed for withholding vital information."

Sam did not answer. Hammond asked in a soft voice, "Has Jack appointed one, Major?"

Heart suddenly beating too fast, Sam nodded and lied smoothly. "Yes, sir."

"Get the file for me, Major." Hammond gave her a brief smile, "Then leave us alone here for a while, will you?"

Staring at Hammond's kind face, Sam was struck with how hard and sharp those eyes were. Something was going to happen between those two, she thought. Then, she felt a folder thrust into her hand.

"Yes, sir." Sam slowly took a look at the file that Hammond had given her. It was thick. She stared back toward the General questioningly.

"Go," Hammond said. "And bring the anthropologist's profile files to my office."

"Just a moment," Maybourne suddenly said, halting Sam. "What's that file?"

Hammond smirked to hear the suspicious tone. "Nothing that concerns you, Brigadier," he said.

Maybourne snorted then turned toward Sam, "Tell me, Major. Who's the lucky candidate?"

//God help me//, Sam thought and felt her throat suddenly dry. It was the hardest decision she had ever made, but she knew that somehow, she had to.

//Forgive me, Jack//.

Sam answered without hesitating, "It's Jackson, Sir. Doctor Daniel Jackson."

//Forgive me, Daniel//.

****************************

Sam felt herself trembling violently by the time she finished reading the report. She quickly looked at the clock, realizing that it was the end of the day shift, and hastily put the thick file inside her bag.

She unlocked her door and jumped with surprise finding a Sergeant standing in front of it.

"Major," the man saluted.

Sam stared at him. She had never seen this person before. "Who are you?" she asked curtly, hiding her sudden distress.

"Sergeant Simmons, Major. General Maybourne requested me to escort you home."

Thinking very quickly, Sam smiled. "That's all right, Sergeant. I'm going to General Hammond."

"Excuse me, Major. General Maybourne said specifically that you should be accompanied home," the man said stubbornly.

Sam took a deep breath. She felt as if the bag she was holding had put on another ton of weight.

"Fine," she said. "Then accompany me to General Hammond's first, will you?"

There was displeasure in the Sergeant's eyes, but he obeyed. The corridors were full of people, ready to start their shifts or go home. There was nothing that he could do.

Sam strolled quickly toward General Hammond's temporary office, wishing desperately that he was still there. She could not believe how relieved she felt when she found him standing just outside his door. "Sir!"

Hammond looked surprised.

"I've found the file, sir. Let me show you along the way," Sam said quickly and turned toward Sergeant Simmons. "I'm fine now, Sergeant, you may go and report to General Maybourne."

Hammond looked at the retreating Sergeant with narrowed eyes, then turned to Sam. "Ah, yes. What is it that you want to show me, Major?"

**********************************

"The change of command, Sir," Sam said in a very quiet tone. "It's suspicious."

Hammond stared silently toward the window. They were both driving aimlessly in the rental car they had obtained after the General abandoned his limousine. Their conversation could not be heard by another ear, even if it was his own faithful driver's.

"I've tried to trace who it was who suddenly changed the field command." Hammond said. "It goes back to the White House."

"What do you think had happened, Sir?"

Hammond was silent for such a long time, that by the time he spoke it made Sam almost jump in surprise. "Turn here, Major."

Sam turned the car toward the small, crowded alley and warily looked at the bright neon row along the street. Luckily enough the car was small, because after

Hammond's careful pointers, they manuevered inside the heart of the crowded, almost jammed Chinatown. They found a parking space by accident, which made Hammond smile. "A God's gift!"

 

"Sir?" Sam turned off the car.

"I thought we'd have to walk. This is perfect." Hammond pointed at the corner of that block. There was a long line of people waiting in front of a small restaurant.

Sam silently followed the General, all too aware that this was not intended to be a sight-seeing trip. Together they walked into the restaurant, despite the long line. A Chinese man in his fifties greeted Hammond woodenly, then escorted them into a small private room that seemed to be for VIP customers.

"That's Harry Anderson," Hammond told Sam as he waved at the only other customer in the room. Harry Anderson was a small, middle aged man, with a face full of character that lent an attractiveness all of its own. Sort of like a lithe version of Sean Connery.

"Harry." Hammond took a seat in front of him and introduced Sam. "Major Carter here was as desperate as I was."

Sam studied the man carefully. He was an ex-military, that was very obvious. It was written in his body language, only recognized by another from the military. Yet, there was a vague aura of intrigue all over him.

"CIA," Hammond smiled toward Sam. Both men exchanged smiles, knowing full well about Sam's curiosity.

"Oh," Sam blushed for a while, then turned serious. "Is this about General O'Neill, sir?"

Hammond stared at the man in front of him. "Harry?"

"You're right," Harry nodded. "There were only three bodies."

Sam looked both men questioningly. "Gentlemen, if you both don't mind me being here, you might as well enlighten me a little."

"Ah," Harry smiled toward Sam. "Forgive me. It's the dead bodies of the black-ops members. We only found three. We couldn't find the other three."

Heart jumping wildly, Sam turned toward Hammond. "And you already knew that General O'Neill wasn't among the dead, didn't you, Sir?"

"I'm only guessing. As you read in the report I gave you, the clean up was rough and untidy. There's no report on handling the dead black-ops members."

"Untidy, indeed." Harry nodded. "The Air Force seemed in a desperate hurry to close the matter and forget the whole thing."

Sam's mouth gaped open. She had read the file before, and she had noticed the lack of information there. //And Jack//, she inhaled deeply. //Where is he?//

"What's your suggestion, Harry?"

The lithe man leaned forward. "CIA smelled something unpleasant there. Do you know what we found in the old bunker we blew up?"

"What is it?"

"Ammonia. Period."

Sam gasped, "But that's impossible! It was a chemical warfare bomb factory! There should've been hazardous chemicals there."

"That's what we thought," Harry nodded. He looked at Hammond closely. "Now, do you understand the big picture here?"

Hammond looked like as if he had seen a ghost. He whispered, "That factory is still intact."

Harry nodded, "Along with half of your men."

*****************************

"Hello?"

"Daniel?"

"Sam. You can call me at home. I'm staying with the kids."

"I doubt that it's a good idea. So far your cell seems secure. Listen, I need to see you right away."

"Sam, is everything alright?"

"There's something you should know."

Daniel swallowed audibly, "Jack?"

"Meet me at the Golden Palace Restaurant, check the address in the phone book."

"I can't, Sam. The street's too empty, and I have no back me up if something happens to me along the way."

"Daniel? What's going on?"

"I think I'm being stalked."

************************************

Hammond looked up when Sam rushed back, "Major?"

"I have to go to the hospital, Sir," Sam said tensely. "Paul O'Neill had a seizure and his caretaker is taking him to the ER." Sam nodded to Harry Anderson and turned towards the General again, "If you don't mind, Sir, I'll need your signature to change the duty rosters of General O'Neill's administration staff. I want Sergeant Wiley, Sergeant Hanson, and Lieutenant Lee staying at General O'Neill's house and taking care of General O'Neill's children."

"I'll give it to you as soon as possible." Hammond stared hard at Sam. She blushed so furiously that the General realized there was something else she would have said if Harry Anderson was not present. "Anything else, Sam?"

"The meeting, Sir."

"The meeting?"

"Yes, Sir. Between you and Dr. Jackson," Sam swallowed. "Surely you haven't forgotten it, Sir."

Hammond's face only blanked for a fraction of a second. He quickly raised his eyebrows, "Ah. Very well, just call me as soon as you're at the hospital, Major."

Sam nodded and took her coat. "Sir." She rushed out after nodding politely to Harry Anderson.

Once she was out of sight, Harry smiled toward the General, "Sharp girl, eh? I can tell she knows more than she's letting on."

Hammond was very thoughtful. "Sam is resourceful."

"I can tell that she *does* more than she's letting on."

"Indeed, Harry. Indeed." Then his gaze focussed again on the CIA man. "Okay. Let's compare notes from the very beginning."

Anderson nodded, "Starting with the identification process." The man took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a lungful before returning to Hammond.

"Imagine our surprise when we couldn't access our usual sources on D-day. We had a deal that the team would come out *safely*. That's why we prepared some backup."

Hammond smirked, "I doubt that such back-up is officially known to Operation Command."Anderson smiled, "Let's just say, it's our own precaution. We've never gotten along well with the military, and we found this mission highly suspicious. Something this important required the full cooperation of the CIA. After all, we were the ones responsible for supplying the information."

"Then what happened?"

"D-day was such a blur. Our contact was cut off, so we were forced to rely on the Air Force to succeed in their mission. All we heard was that the assasination was a success, but the team failed to retreat on time. Of course, we pointed out that such a thing wouldn't have happened if they'd used the back up system." Anderson took another drag. "It took us *two* fucking days to realize that our agent, along with some of the back up system people, had been compromised."

"Compromised?"

"Dead," Anderson said coldly. "…and hidden carefully."

Hammond pursed his lips, "I wonder why?"

"To stall for time." Anderson nodded. "We're completely clueless as to what really happened, so we were forced to erect another channel to quickly investigate. So, first, we checked on the dead members of the mission team. You know what we found? Zilch. Nothing. All the bodies had been cremated and flown out of the country to some place unidentified."

"You don't have any info whatsoever about those bodies?"

"Not until it was too late. And the outcome was also not satisfactory. We were only left with the option to conduct DNA identification. You *know* how long that took."

"And then you found out that the chemical factory was a fake."

"Absolutely," Anderson nodded. "The Director went to the President, but the man simply shrugged and said that it's now the responsibility of the new man in the office."

Hammond leaned forward and said quietly, "I need to be sure that Saddam is really dead."

"Don't worry. He's *very* dead. Of that, we have no doubt. But we weren't sure about the chemical factory." Anderson cocked his head to one side. "As well as the team that was completely eliminated."

"Why are you so sure the entire team wasn't eliminated?"

"A hunch," Anderson said. "Trust me. The DNA tests won't come out right. My bet is that we'll see Arabian DNA. So where are they? Alive, we hope."

"And still in Iraq?"

"My source is working on it."

Hammond sighed, "Great. A war inside the Air Force."

Anderson snickered, "Don't be too naïve. Since when military institutions are indifferent with personal ambitions and rivalry?"

"Maybourne knew about this."

"The guy is so smug, I can't believe he reached the rank of General," Anderson smiled. "We found one piece of interesting information."

"Money?"

"Damn, Hammond. I meant to surprise you."

"How much?"

"Approximately a hundred million. And believe me, the guy really knows how to launder his money. We can't prove it's his."

"A *hundred* millon?"

"*Private* account. We also noticed a flow of billions from, to, and past him."

"What do you think about all this, Harry?"

Harry Anderson stubbed his cigarette. "He, and whoever his back up is at the Pentagon, made a deal with the Iraqi caretaker, Housni Al Thaleb, to get rid of Saddam, in exchange for the chemical factory."

"You mean…?"

"The acquisition of the chemical factory, " Anderson laughed. "Good ol' Uncle Sam. Champion of the world peace who never realizes that his biggest enemy is actually his own citizens."

The CIA man watched the dumbfound Hammond, and sighed, "Should I tell you that we also found out that Reykyavik Air Force Base suddenly got busy? I believe my source mentioned that they were going freelance. Import-export business, they say. Or was it pharmaceuticals?"

Hammond straightened his back. "I can assure you, Harry, that the Air Force has *no* intention of developing any kind of chemical weapon!"

"Oh please, Hammond. The Air Force isn't just *you*. Haven't you watched 'The X-Files'?"

Hammond was silent for a long time. A feeling of dread overwhelmed him when he realized that whatever conspiracy he was facing had something to do with the fierce competition to take over the Stargate Project.

"My God," Hammond whispered. "It's just the madness of somebody wanting to conquer the world."

"Isn't it funny?" Anderson chuckled. "Somebody certainly has a James Bond complex."

"Then Jack better be alive."

"He might, if he's a part of the game," Anderson said carelessly.

Hammond froze, then turned deadly eyes toward Anderson. "Jack? Never."

**************************

Sam rushed into the ER, passed the almost vacant nurse station, and went directly to the center of the waiting room. Daniel was sitting with Paul sleeping in his arms.

She looked around, found that none of the other people in the room paid her any attention, and quickly seated herself beside him.

"I'm sorry," Daniel tried to smile. "There's nothing I can do besides meeting you here. It's public but safe enough. Those strange people have been following me around, and I don't think it's a good idea for them to see us together except under extraordinary circumstances."

Sam peeked at Paul's sleepy face and smirked, "He's sleeping like a log."

Daniel nodded and carefully laid Paul on the sofa at the corner.

"He only whined a little when I dragged him here." Daniel rubbed the small back lovingly. "I think he's exhausted. He's been having nightmares about his father."

Sam bit her lip. "There's no news about Jack yet, Daniel. But we came up with some extraordinary findings."

"Like what?" Daniel's voice sounded tired, and the shadows under his eyes were becoming more and more prominent. He walked back to the seat next to Sam.

Sam looked at Daniel guiltily and sighed, "I need you to trust me, Daniel."

"Are you going to ask me a really big favour, Sam?" Daniel even sounded tired. "Can't you see that we're almost at the end of our ropes?"

Sam flinched. She noticed that now Daniel used the term 'we' concerning him and the O'Neill children. Such a casual intimate announcement hurt her deeply for some odd reason. She had been Jack's best friend longer, yet, it seemed that it was Daniel who could claim to be a part of the family. It was unfair now that Jack was out of the picture she was truly an outsider. Not to mention the jealousy she felt as well. It was clear to whom Daniel had given his full devotion, and she couldn't help but feel that it was a real waste, since Jack wouldn't appreciate it as much as she would, had the circumstances been different.

"Tell me," Daniel whispered. "The Iraq thing. Jack is in it, right?"

"Yes." Suddenly feeling suffocated, Sam turned and refused to meet Daniel's eyes.

"Something isn't working, is that it? Otherwise, why are those people stalking at us?"

Again, the 'us' hurt Sam deeply. For one crazy moment she wanted to laugh. Jealous of her best friend over a gay guy. She really was a screwed-up woman.

"Yes, something is obviously not working," Sam nodded quietly. "I haven't gotten the details yet, but Jack is most likely still stranded in Iraq."

A soft, exasperated sigh escaped Daniel. "He'd better be alive after causing all this misery."

Sam turned her eyes toward Daniel. She watched the blue orbs glitter brightly under the neon light.

"For making *me* miserable like this," Daniel added with a defeated tone. He smiled sadly, "I suppose you need my help with this?"

Swallowing a large lump in her throat, Sam returned the smile. "You could say that."

"Why do you need me?"

"Do you remember when we showed an interest about your being an anthropologist?"

Daniel chuckled with ironic tone. He said matter of factly, "You want to recruit me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I think Jack's survival depends on the mission that I want you to be a part of."

Daniel stared at Sam for a long time. He finally said, "Do you know that I don't *do* military?"

"I am aware of that."

"Why me, then?"

"I have no choice."

Daniel heard the sincerity in Sam's tone, "Really?"

"Especially *now*, when we not only need someone capable, but also someone trustworthy."

"Does Jack have anything to do with this?"

Sam averted her eyes and pretended as if the floor tile was interesting.

"Sam?"

"Only me."

"You mean…"

"Not Jack, not even the Generals. It is *me* recruiting you, Daniel."

Daniel stared at her for a long time, and then said in a quiet tone, "Don't they have a procedure to recruit civilians?"

"I sort of…*bluffing around*," Sam took a deep breath. "I told them that you're *in* already."

Daniel squeezed his eyes tightly for a second, "Are you saying that I don't have a choice?"

"I'm asking for your help, Daniel. Not blackmailing you."

"It feels like it," Daniel smiled bitterly. "Emotional blackmail."

Sam sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't know what else I could do."

"Tell me what kind of mission that I'm suppose to be on, Sam."

"I can't tell you unless you commit to it first."

"Oh?" Daniel's tone made Sam stare at his face again, and she saw amusement on Daniel's face. "You really expect me to say yes first without knowing what I need to know?"

"I suppose."  
  
They stared one another for a long time, then, finally, Sam found her voice. "I love him, too, you know."

Daniel chuckled in a slightly hysterical tone. "You already know how I feel. Wow. What insight."

"Am I wrong, Daniel?"

"The hell you are, Sam. You're wrong." Daniel inhaled deeply. "If you think that I love him the way you *love* him, oh Lord, you're wrong." He laughed, "Let me tell you something, Sam. If I say 'yes', Jack is *mine*. One hundred percent. That's my condition. You don't try interfering whatever relationship I design to have with Jack, okay? I want him to be *mine* and I won't let you try to come between us or even stop me unless I decide that it's a lost cause."

Daniel's sunken face turned red, and his shadowed eyes turned damp. Yet, in Sam's eyes, nothing was more beautiful than Daniel at that moment. He gave her a wide smile, "Don't look too amazed. That's *my* style to declare love, Sam."

Despite herself, Sam couldn't help smiling in return, "I guess this is a rather sudden revelation?"

"Just realized it a minute ago," Daniel laughed with wonder in his eyes. "Hey, I'm impulsive. Take it or leave it."

"Then, you're in?"

Daniel gave her a slight glance and snorted, "Like you expected otherwise. I'm also a softie. I can't stand disappointing you."

Sam genuinely laughed. "Well, then. Let me tell you about Stargate Project."

************************

Brad found Daniel sitting quietly on the back porch in the morning. He almost wanted to make some joke about him imitating a snowman, but stopped when he saw the lost expression in his face.

He sat quietly beside him. A thick folder lay beside Daniel, and Brad saw the red, bold CLASSIFIED across the cover. He shivered and turned to the man who had become his and his brothers' rock.

"Daniel?" He asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

Daniel didn't answer for a long time, but his mouth quirked into a sad smile. Finally, he turned to Brad.

"Brad," he whispered. "I think I'm in love."

"With Dad?" Brad felt a sharp pang across his chest. It stung his eyes painfully. //Isn't it too late, Daniel?//

Daniel patted the young man's hand softly, "I think we have to move to Colorado."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Sergeant Marjorie Ryan stood silently at the kitchen. It was almost 8 in the morning, yet, the grey winter sun refused to come out. //It's going to snow again//, she thought sadly, imagining that it seemed proper to fit the desolate atmosphere of the place. A delicious smell of coffee forced her to go to the kitchen island. This had made the back porch visible from her view. She watched silently at the two figures sitting outside, Brad and his caretaker, their backs to her.

Doctor Daniel Jackson.

She wondered about that man. During their first meeting, she thought that the young man was Brad's new boyfriend. He had the prettiness and liveliness that most teenagers found appealing. However, once she knew him well enough, it was clear that the man was not cut out for Brad. Even more, there was never any doubt about which O'Neill the young PhD was interested to. Despite the appearance, Doctor Jackson had an aura of maturity that didn't fit the image of Bradley O'Neill's boyfriend.

The bonding vibes from the man and General O'Neill's oldest son were closer to paternal than romantic.

A soft squeak broke her reverie. She turned toward the door and watched Chance Wiley entering with a solemn expression in his face.

"I'm here to release you, Chance. You're expected at the office as soon as possible."

Chance ignored her and walked toward the window facing the street. He squinted, then turned and waved her to come.

"What is it?" Marjorie frowned.

"Did you pass a black minivan on your way here?"

"No," Marjorie answered softly. "I saw *our* van, though."

Chance looked relieved. "Ah, good. I guess we've gotten rid of them."

"Who are they, Chance?"

Chance shrugged, then slowly opened one of his palm. "Do you recognize this?"

//Bugs,// Marjorie thought. //Why the hell there are *bugs* in *here*?//

"Where did you get these, specifically?"

"Home office, master bedroom, and the living room."

"No mini cameras?"

"Maybe you can re-sweep the house again, Marjorie."

"I'd better."

Chance tightened his jaw. "Who's taking over the office?"

"Surprisingly, it's not Maybourne."

They stared at one another with puzzlement etched deeply in their faces.

"Why the hell not?"

"He's taking up the Colorado post."

"Colorado?"

There was something in Chance's tone that stopped Marjorie from quipping 'what's so important in Colorado anyway?'.

"Yes."

"They're moving to Colorado," Chance said in a choking tone.

"Who?"

Chance turned toward the back porch. "Them."

Again, they exchanged looks. It was Chance who finally spoke, "Whatever those people are looking for, it's still in this house."

Marjorie stared at the two men sitting quietly outside and inhaled a deep breath. "Do you think those two have it?"

***************************

The distant sound of azans marked the incoming morning. The woman tightly clad in black abaya rushed hurriedly. In just a matter of time, the people would start coming out from the houses and hurrying to the nearest mosques for morning pray. Finding a woman walking alone outside would raise questions.

She turned to the darken alley, passed the dense row of houses and stopped in front of the door of the farthest hut. She whispered a low "Assalamuálaikum!" and the door opened abruptly as if somebody was already standing behind it.

The woman brushed back the black veil on her face, thus revealing a weathered face and an unmistakable week's growth of brown beard.

"Ah, well, it's about time," the answer given to him was painfully English. The 'woman', shedding the abaya completely to reveal a mid forties Caucasian man, looked over at the dark, small room, "Are they here?"

"Finally," the other man answered. "One is dead, one is in a bad condition with all of those bullet wounds, and the General was… well, traumatized, in a way."

"They are supposed to be dead," his companion muttered.

"What took you so long, Smythe? I don't think that one will survive if we can't transport him out soon."

Smythe inhaled his breath. "I can't transport them out. No resources are available." His friend stared for a long time and finally said incredulously, "You've got to be kidding."

"I'm not. If they are going to get back to the States, they have to do it on their own."

"What? *How*?"

"Finishing the mission." Smythe could not conceal his sadness. "They haven't completed the *whole* mission." He patted his friend's shoulder. "We have to take them away from here soon, otherwise we'll jeopardize our new system. We can't afford losing it *again*."

"Just like that, huh?"

"I told you, Farid, don't get too attached to them. They're expendable."

Farid shot him an icy glare, and released a deep sigh, "Let me introduce you to General O'Neill."

The smell of death, blood, sweat, and pain, was so strong Smythe had to stop for a second. Two figures were lying still in two small beds. One of them was undoubtedly dead. The other one was wheezing loudly and obnoxiously, a sign that he was dying and struggled for every breath he took.

That was where General O'Neill sat. He was clutching the wheezing man's hand, and staring silently out the small frame of the window nearby.

"General O'Neill?" Smythe softly whispered. He watched the man slowly turn to him. His eyes were tired and showing pain, his skin was peeling and showing dehydration, and the stubble covering his face was dirty. //He's younger than I thought//, Smythe thought.

"How are you?"

"Who sent you?"

"CIA," Smythe answered without hesitation.

"Who's your contact with the Air Force?"

"Major General Hammond."

Jack O'Neill's body suddenly slumped. It startled Smythe for a moment, but he quickly realized that it was just relief.

"They abandoned us," Jack chuckled bitterly. "Those sons of bitches shot me."

Smythe retrieved a chair and sat himself beside the General. He finally saw the way the man hunched in his seat. It looked like he had a stomach wound.

"Are you all right?"

"It's just a graze."

"I'm surprised you're still alive, Sir."

"Jack," Jack corrected. He stared sorrowfully at the dying face on the bed. "I'm not that easy to kill."

"Who shot you?"

"Captain Byrne. We were in a perfect shape, you know. We came out alive, but then the three of them started shooting at us." He shook his head. "Our own *friends*."

"I'm sorry," Smythe said genuinely. "If there's any consolation, we also suffered some casualties. You're not the only one being had."

"I heard that. I presume we can't leave this hellhole, now? Not with all of your systems down?"

"I'm afraid so."

Jack sighed and stared at the dead body of his man. "Will you take care of Terrence here? I can't leave his body without proper burial."

"You've done the right thing, Jack." Smythe nodded. "If you had left him in the scene, giving evidence of his identity and fate, we would never have considered that you might still be alive. They managed to replace the corpses, though. It kept us busy for a while."

"I know," Jack said. "I can't afford to be stuck here. Isn't there anything you can do to get me out?"

"As I told you, we no longer have a system to do that. Maybourne and his back-up wiped them out. Even when you're out and back in the States, your life will still be in danger."

Jack sighed, "So, what is CIA suggesting?"

"A she-bang comeback. That's what we need."

Jack rolled his eyes, "How?"

"Finishing your job."

Jack stared at him silently. There was comprehension in his eyes. "The factory?"

"Yes," Smythe nodded. "We need to show the public that the real chemical factory is actually still intact. And then destroyed. By you."

Jack smiled, "That sure would embarrass Maybourne."

"Isn't that what you want?"

*************************************

"Doctor Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel turned around quickly. He stood up to greet the two men in top command uniforms.

"I'm Major General Hammond, and this is Brigadier General Maybourne," Hammond introduced his second-in-command.

Daniel stared at Maybourne defiantly. He took in the smart-ass attitude with deep satisfaction. //This is him,// he thought//, the man responsible for Jack's fate//. He felt a curious relief over the fact that his *enemy* turned out to be a man deserving his hate.

Maybourne eyed him up and down, and gave him a smirk. "I heard that you live in Jack O'Neill's house."

Daniel nodded with indifference. The corner of his eyes caught Hammond's narrowing eyes and Sam's sudden stiffness.

"He was a nice host, wasn't he?" Maybourne smiled.

"He was," Daniel said carefully.

"How did you two meet, actually? When was it?"

"What is your intention in asking this question, Maybourne?" Hammond chided his second-in-command. Daniel saw that the bald man was becoming defensive. He wondered for a second, then realized that the Major General must probably sense some danger from his subordinate's prying.

"I'm just trying to figure out the nature of Doctor Jackson and General O'Neill's relationship," Maybourne said nonchalantly. "They seem to be *uncharacteristically* close. Do sit down, Doctor Jackson. Coffee?"

"No thanks." Daniel felt bitterness in his mouth. He decided that he really disliked the man. //He hates Jack so much//. He briefly wondered why a man as gentle as Jack had an enemy as hateful as this man.

Hammond caught his eyes, "I'm sorry if it came out rude, Doctor Jackson. General Maybourne is just wanting to be sure."

"There's always the potential of nepotism, you know," Maybourne chuckled. "You know, using connection, or personal *favour* to gain employment. It happens everywhere."

Daniel decided that if they wanted it, he could also play the game. He got nothing to lose.

"There's no secret about me wanting to share his bed," Daniel smiled. "Too bad the man is straight."

Daniel caught Hammond's gaze and felt a wave of warmth coming out from him. Daniel addressed his remark next to him, "I suppose you're not too hung up on sexual orientation of your civilian employees, General?"

"No, however, the rule is 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'."

"Ah," Daniel nodded. He turned to Maybourne and smiled, "I suppose we've both have broken the rule by accident, then. You asked and I told."

"Really?" Maybourne sipped his coffee and stared at Daniel thoughtfully. "Is that how I worded my question?"

Daniel only smirked.

********************************

Charlie found his oldest brother sitting at his favourite spot at the batting cage. He was alone and his body screamed 'Do Not Disturb". He slowly came up to his brother, noticing Brad staring at his baseball glove with a lost expression.

"Brad?"

Brad turned and waved him to come over. Charlie sat beside him and stared as seriously as his brother at the glove. "You'll have to practice all the time now, don't you?"

Brad gave him a sad smile, "I have to. It's for my scholarship. I can't stand being so far away from you guys."

"Are you going to the campus in Colorado Spring?"

"No. Boulder. But it's still closer than from DC."

Charlie nodded, and then looked at Brad seriously. "Why is it we have to move to Colorado, Brad?"

Brad turned sad eyes to his brother. "It's what Dad wants."

"Do you think Dad is alive, Brad?" The young eyes turned teary.

Brad swallowed. They stared at one another in sorrow, until Charlie gently took the glove from his brother's hand, compulsively slapping it against his thigh.

"Are we in danger, Brad?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Do you think I didn't notice all those weird Men In Black guys are following us? They always park their car in front of our school."

Brad bit his lips.

"Is it something to do with Dad's secret box?"

Brad turned to his brother. "What secret box?"

******************************

Daniel looked up from whatever he was doing when Edwina called, "Your sons are here!"

There were two students in front of him and they were staring at him funny. Feeling his cheeks burn, Daniel excused himself and strode quickly toward the common area. He found the twins staring with mouths wide open at the various bones and pots collection across the room.

"Guys? What are you doing?" Daniel quickly took in the red, sweaty faces, and the heavy breathing.

The twins looked around. They smirked, aware of the oozing curiosity from Daniel's guests and the other milling teaching assistants, and screamed joyously,

"MOMMY!"

Daniel laughed nervously toward his amused friends and frowned to the boys. "Aren't you supposed to be at home this time of day?"

"Nope! We decided to check out the GW library!"

"What for?"

"Shane wants to see some reports on some Egyptian pharaoh's tombs." Charlie stretched his hand and handed Daniel a small plastic box.

Daniel stared puzzlingly at the plastic box. He almost spoke his question aloud when Charlie's nervous glance caught him. He took in again on the twins' appearances, and realized that despite the nonchalant attitude, they were very nervous.

"Do you need my card for the library?"

"YEAH!" Shane whooped and pushed his brother's hand toward Daniel. The plastic box changed hands in no time. "Here's your lunch. Give us the card."

Daniel did not hesitate to take out his card, "If you have problem checking the books out, call me at extension 255, 'kay?"

"Okay," the twins grinned. They turned quickly with Daniel's card. Charlie gave him a look before closing the office door. "Eat your lunch, Mom!"

"Call me if you want to go home." A sudden fear for their safety froze him on the spot.

//They know I'm being shadowed,// Daniel thought with horror. //Jesus, are the kids also being stalked as well?//

He returned to his students, but his concentration was already disturbed. The plastic box in his desk suddenly turned lethal in his eyes. Finally, after the students left him alone, Daniel locked his room and tremblingly opened the box.

Disks.

CLASSIFIED disks.

//Where the hell did the twins get this?// he thought. Then, Daniel widened his eyes in frightening realization. //This is what those men are looking for. Jack hid them in the hands of the twins all along//.

His hand was shaking as he put the first disk in his laptop drive and opened it.

Thus, his first introduction to the Goa'uld began.

*****************************

The second floor landing creaked despite Daniel's careful step. Dobey, the Saint Bernard, only raised his head slightly and gave Daniel a curious doggie snort. The hallway was dark, and so were the boys' rooms. Except one. He softly tiptoed toward the slightly open door and peeked.

Paul was crying softly, clutching a large cloth bundle in his arms.

A wave of sadness took him by surprise it froze him for a moment. Then, Daniel gently opened the door, "Paul?"

"Mommy…," the child sobbed miserably. He turned toward him and quickly sat up. Both of his arms stretched out, beckoning, and without hesitation Daniel took the small boy in his arms.

"Sssh… It's all right, son… It's alright."

"Mommy," Paul whimpered. Daniel realized that the little boy was not calling for him. //His mother? But she died when he was born.// He slowly stared at the small frame of Sara's photo at the corner of Paul's bedside table.

"Are you okay, Paul?"

The boy buried his face to Daniel's chest and shook his head.

"Nightmare again?"

The nod was faint.

"Is it okay if you tell me about it?"

There were some hesitation, but the boy decided to shake his head.

"Do you want me to tell you stories?"

Again, a shaking head.

"Come on, let's sleep okay? I'll stay with you here until you sleep."

The boy raised his head and looked at Daniel hopefully. "…promise?"

Daniel swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "I promise."

He felt Paul's body relax then obey his gentle ministration to tuck him back under the blanket. Daniel gently attempted to pry the clothing from his small hand, but Paul fiercely refused. He demonstratively clutched it tightly on his chest. It took a second for Daniel to realize that it was Jack's USAF sweater. A sharp pang hit him.

The small boy took one small fold of the sweater into his mouth, and started sucking it. It was obvious that in distress, the boy had reverted to his teething days.

"Mommy's mad," the little boy mumbled.

"Why is mommy mad, Paulie?" Daniel softly rubbed the boy's sweaty forehead.

"Dad's not home. Mommy mad."

"How do you know mommy is mad?"

The boy whimpered.

"Did you see her in your dream?"

Paul nod with hesitation, but there was confusion in his eyes.

"Did you see Daddy in your dream as well?"

The boy was silent, and then he started sniffing. Daniel braced himself for another outburst of cry, yet, the boy was only sobbing a little. Tiredly. Daniel kissed his forehead in sympathy.

"Where's daddy, Daniel?"

"I don't know, son. I don't know." Daniel suddenly wished to say differently, but somehow he didn't have a heart to tell a lie. Despair bubbled again in his stomach, threatening to burst. He blinked back sudden tears.

"You miss him?" The brown eyes watched him with compassion.

It was Daniel's undoing, because the next thing he knew, a tear was rolling down his cheek. It caught him by surprise. He wiped it hastily, afraid the little boy would see it. But, of course, Paul had seen it. "Yes," he nodded, trying hard to smile.

"Daddy can find Colorado?"

Daniel nodded reassuringly. "He will, Paul. In fact, your Dad has prepared everything for us in Colorado. He won't get lost."

The brown eyes looked hopeful. "Really?"

Daniel swallowed again and squeezed his eyes shut for a second to bear the tightening in his chest. "Yes. Really."

"I have Daddy's sweater." Paul stretched out his arm, showing Daniel his Dad's sweater.

"I can see that," Daniel grinned. The old sweater had wet spots all around. There was no doubt that most of them were evidence of Paul's drooling.

"Have another one in the closet."

"You do?" Daniel raised his eyebrows and got a rather enthusiastic nod in return. "Do you want me to get it?"

"It's for you."

Funny, that such a compassionate tone could make Daniel stopped his breathing for a second. //Jesus, don't let me cry//.

"So you don't have to be so sad."

"Oh." Daniel could not believe that his eyes started brimming again. //Oh for God's sake, I'm turning into a big mush.// "Thank you."

"Promise you'll take it?"

"Mmm hmmm," Daniel nodded. "Now, you must sleep."

"Can Dobey sleep with me?"

Daniel glanced toward the doorway and saw Dobey already snoring in front of the door. He smiled toward Paul, "Let's not disturb his sleep, shall we?"

"Tell me stories?"

Daniel grinned, "Lion King?"

He left Paul's room an hour later with an old blue sweater in his hand.

He hesitated for a moment in the middle of the darken hallway, staring at the garment with wonder in his eyes. He brought it up to his nose and slowly sniffed it. It smelled like an old sweater tucked in the closet too long, but it also distinctively smelled like Jack. In fact, it smelled like Jack when he was at home. Clean, homey, with a strange mix of detergent, tobacco, and freshly baked cookies smells. An image of Jack freshly showered, standing in the kitchen and munching Brad's cookies attacked Daniel with a vengeance. He squeezed his eyes shut.

The next thing he knew, the sweater was fitted perfectly on his body. He stood unmoving for a long time, eyes looking lost, rejoicing the warm feeling of the clothes, and wondered if this was what it felt to have Jack hugging his body.

He heard a soft noise and found himself staring at Bradley's sleepy eyes.

"Daniel?"

"Yes, Brad."

"Paulie okay?"

Daniel smiled, "Don't worry."

"Oh," the young man nodded and headed toward the bathroom at the end of the hall.

"Brad? Can we talk for a moment after?" Daniel asked softly.

Brad stiffened for a little, just outside the bathroom door. He opened it and turned his head toward Daniel, "Something about your *lunch* box today?"

Daniel bit his lower lip. "I'll wait for you in my room."

It took a long five minutes for Daniel to keep his impatience at bay. Finally, Brad came in, looking dishevelled in a very familiar pair of sweats.

Despite himself, Daniel felt his smile broaden. "Just how many Air Force sweaters did Jack have?"

"Each one of us has only one," Brad smiled. "Except Paulie. But I can see you already inherited the extra one from him."

Brad watched Daniel's hand unconsciously rubbing on the material he was wearing in a very gentle motion. He pretended that he was not aware of it, because Daniel was watching him with an expression of amusement mixed with melancholy.

"Including Dobey?"

"Dobey loves Dad's socks better than his sweater." Brad lowered himself on Daniel's bed.

"You should sleep in the master bedroom," he said quietly. "So that we can use this one for Dad's staff while they're guarding us."

Daniel remembered Sergeant Marjorie Ryan's huddled form on the sofa guiltily. "You know that it's not right, Brad. That's your Dad's private room. I'd feel like I was intruding."

"I bet you want to sleep there like hell."

"That's not your business, young man." Daniel cuffed Brad's head playfully. "Why do you insist your Dad become my lover?"

Brad blushed. He bit his lips and stared at his hands intently. "I suppose I like you." Daniel looked at him with wary doubt. "Uh huh."

"It's kind of a turn on, too," Brad grinned sheepishly.

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Brad, you have a dirty mind." He sighed, "I don't think I like the way you think, and it's not a good idea to share this kind of thought with your brothers."

"They don't care." Brad shrugged. "They love you anyway. I never choose wrong."

"Then keep it to yourself. Tell me, where did your brothers get the *lunch box*?"

"Chance Wiley told me that there was a possibility this house was bugged," Brad's eyes showed alarm.

"General Hammond and Sam had already made sure we're safe."

The young man frowned, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Since when do you know General Hammond?"

"Answer my question first, Brad."

"It's rather stupid, actually. Me and my brothers found out by accident that Dad had a secret box." Brad looked at his hands carefully. "He had a period of depression after Mom died, so he became a little morbid." The young man shivered, his expression turned mournful. It was obvious such memory was too painful to remember.

"He wrote wills, arranged things for us… Unnecessary things, of course, because I just knew that Dad would not going anywhere. I spent so much time yelling at him for that. Sometimes the man needs a good, hard spanking, you know?" The boy's hands were now fidgeting nervously.

Suddenly Daniel could picture Bradley three years ago, a frightened but fierce teenage boy who kept his father sane and his family intact. He remembered Jack's praise of his oldest son as the real mother in the family and Daniel could not agree more. The young man had a unique nature which made him very strong. He managed to conquer the world all by himself. And Daniel did not doubt that he did that despite all the difficulties inherent in adolescence.

"So, since he became obsessed with that sort of thing and made our lawyer dizzy, I suggested him to keep them all in a safe, y'know? Well, the next thing he knew he started keeping things there."

"You know where the safe is?"

Brad rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously, the twins did. I don't know how and when, those two geeks started spying on Dad. They have some fantasy about the safe containing the secret of the world. You know how obsessed they are about Indiana Jones and everything."

Daniel nodded, smiling.

"Anyway, it turned out that Dad never kept them in a safe deposit box or that kind of thing. He just hid them in a plastic lunch box. Up in the attic, among the useless gadgets and old papers and magazines. What a dork. The twins found it."

A dork indeed, Daniel shook his head, revealing his exasperation and amusement. But then again, maybe not. Probably when Jack was planning to go to Iraq, he transferred all of his secret files into the most unnoticeable place of all, hoping that no one would pay attention to it. It seemed that the General preferred them to be lost and forgotten if things happened to him, because they surely would have ended up in a garbage bin.

"What's inside it, Daniel? The twins said it's important files."

Daniel looked at him. "Secret of the worlds."

Brad seemed to accept that at face value and looked strangely satisfied. "My Dad, the hero."

Then, the boy's face crumpled so suddenly it alarmed Daniel for a second. "Oh Jesus," Brad croaked. "Excuse me."

Daniel stared at the running boy, knowing the sudden fit of sorrow too well.

**************************

Tim stared at his boyfriend sorrowfully. He stood with a defeated posture in the middle of the barren room.

"I would love to help you arrange the new house in Colorado."

"Don't be silly, Tim. You can't afford the plane ticket," Brad said exasperatedly.

"I have money. I've been saving."

Brad gave him a sidelong glance, "Is that why you've been so thrifty on me? Man, I need wining and dining to take a courtship seriously."

"I want to go to college," Tim said in a quiet tone. "With you."

Brad swallowed. He quickly turned his back, hoping Tim would not see his face. "Look, Tim…"  
  
"I love you," Tim said quickly. "I do."

Brad did not answer for a long time, yet, Tim became bold. He moved behind Brad and took the beautiful boy in his arms.

"Your Dad still thinks that I'm dubious," he laughed on Brad's soft, thick hair. "Well, I don't blame him, cause I think I have a really bad taste in fashion. But I really want to prove him that I am serious."

"Geez, Tim." Brad could not conceal his sniff. "You, *serious*? What a turn off."

"If I can't go to college, I'll join Air Force and request to be stationed in Colorado."

Brad laughed, "I don't think it's wise for an Airman to be dating a General's son."

"Wait for me?" Tim said that so solemnly, Brad realized that he was being proposed to in a way. He turned so that he was now facing Tim. He kissed his boyfriend softly and rested his forehead to his. "I'm such a lucky boy."

Tim smiled, "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

"Don't join the Air Force. They'll fry you if they know you're gay."

"Oh," Tim nodded. Then he squinted. "Then how come you want your Dad paired up with Daniel?"

"He's a General. That's different." Brad slapped his chest playfully.

Tim tilted his chin and kissed him. In just a moment, the kiss turned passionate.

A polite cough made them jumped apart. Brad looked at Samantha Carter's face with furious blush. "Can't you knock?"

"Door's open." Sam smiled apologetically. "Are you ready, Brad?"

Brad glanced toward Tim, noticing the sad expression of his boyfriend, and realized that he had never loved Tim more than at this moment.

"Bye," Tim said softly.

Brad rushed and kissed him again, before releasing him too quickly.

Together with Sam, he went inside the waiting car. He looked around, "No one else?"

"Just you and me," Sam nodded. "The escort troupe guarded Daniel and your little brothers. I'm the one taking you to the airport."

"What about our things?"

Sam looked at him seriously. "They're safe. I guarantee it."

They both spent the journey in an uneasy silence, until finally Sam said in a quiet tone, "Brad, I think we're being followed."

"What?" Brad jumped. His expression turned into a mixture of fear and excitement. "Who the hell are they, Major?"

//He sounds like Jack//, Sam thought sadly. She glanced at the rear-view mirror. "I have no idea. But whatever it is, they want something from all of you guys." Brad turned silent.

"They can't have anything, can they?"

"No." Sam glanced again. The black car behind them suddenly came closer. It seemed like they realized that both Sam and Brad were aware of their existence and gained speed. "As I told you, we've already ensured that no one can touch the house or its content." "Then why are they following us?" Brad turned his head, and gasped in panic when he saw the black car accelerate. "Sam, they're gaining on us."

Sam gritted her teeth. She pushed the gas pedal and efficiently took out a gun from her purse. Brad watched her with horrific fascination.

"It seems that they want *you*," Sam said. She inhaled sharply when the car drew closer.

"Why?" Brad almost screamed. "What could they possibly want from *me*?" Then his eyes widened. "Jesus, are they going to take me as a *hostage*?"

There was a car moving pretty slow in front of them. Sam bit her lip, noticing that there was also a bus coming from the opposite lane. She glanced back again toward the mirror, then suddenly turned the steering wheel.

"Sam!"

The car zigzagged dangerously, passed the slow moving car and missed the opposite moving bus by a hair's breadth.

The bus swayed dangerously, but enough to make their pursuer slam on their brake. "You almost hit them!" Brad screamed, now in a full panic. He retrieved his duffle bag, rummaged, and then opened the flap of his cell phone.

"703-555-3227," Sam shouted. //Damn, they're back.// The black car had dangerously taken the center turn lane to pass the slower moving car, and was now back on their tail.

"Whose number is this?" Brad obeyed without hesitation.

"Chance Wiley's. Tell him that we're at the corner of Arlington Ave, about a mile from your house."

Brad waited for an answer with a tight face. He had turned pale, but remained remarkably calm.

He had spoken briefly to the phone when Sam shouted, "Watch yourself, Brad!"

Then a loud bang was heard, and the car rocked violently to the right. Brad screamed at the same time the cell phone fell from his hand.

Sam jerked the wheel with great force to the left, violently hitting the pursuer. The other car spun uncontrollably and climbed onto the sidewalk to hit a large mailbox.

"Serves you right, bastard!" Sam shouted and pushed the pedal when a sudden opening appeared. She took a wild turn at the first street she saw, the tires screeching painfully.

"Have you told Chance?" she shouted again.

Brad fumbled around in panic. "Damn! Where's the phone?"

"Is it still on?" Sam asked and glanced in horror seeing the car reappear on their tail.

"Yes!"

"Scream our position, Brad. Let's hope Chance hears it!"

Brad obeyed and screamed at the top of his lungs, telling their whereabouts, all the time rummaging around his lap and his seat, looking for his cell phone. He felt his hand find something.

"Sit still! You'll bang your head! Damn! What kind of car are they using?"

Indeed, the pursuer was using a car with tremendous speed, because suddenly they were back beside Sam's.

"They have a gun!" Brad screamed in horror.

"Duck!" Sam used one hand to swerve towards the pursuer and stretched her arm to point her gun at the driver. Her sudden swerve surprised the pursuer because the first bang of their shotgun missed them completely.

"They're shooting at us! They're shooting at us!" Brad screamed. Then his eyes caught something. "Sam! Police station! Another mile up!"

"Duck!"

Two loud bangs were heard at the same time, and then Brad felt the world tilt violently.

"Hang on!" Sam shouted in a dangerous tone and shot her gun. "Got one, too!"

The roar of the pursuer's car signalled that they were near them again.

"Hell! They're gonna shoot us again!"

"Go to the police station!" Brad cried frantically. The car was now moving too fast and uncontrollably. His eyes were brimming with tears of fright, and he clutched on his duffle bag in a crushing grip.

BANG!

Their car took a sudden dangerous jump, and before he knew it, it screeched to a sudden halt.

"Get out, Brad! Get out!" Sam shouted frantically, pushing the release button of Brad's safety belt.

Brad obeyed automatically. He crawled outside then heard incoming footsteps.

It took a second for him to realize that there was a man coming at him with gun in one of his hand. Suddenly, it felt like there was a white ball coming in a fast pitch. A perfect ball to hit.

He swung.

A loud grunt, followed by the sickening sound of cracking bone, assaulted Brad's ears.

Another gunshot was heard, then another one from the distance.

Brad stared at the fallen body wearing a long coat, lying helplessly, with blood trickling from his nose. He looked in a dreamlike trance towards the wooden baseball bat with visible blood spots in his hand and realized that he had no idea where it came from.

"I hit him," he choked, body trembling violently.

He heard a loud screeching of car tires then the roar of the engine as the car raced away, followed by the scream of sirens.

"Brad?"

Brad whirled quickly and stared blankly at Samantha Carter, who was standing with a handgun in one hand. She looked at him anxiously.

"Are you okay?"

"I hit him," Brad whispered with disbelief. "I hit him."

Suddenly, he was being enveloped inside Sam's arms, heard her murmuring, "It's okay. It's okay."

For the first time in his life he realized how grateful he was for Sam being there with him.

*************************

There was a feeling of anti-climax when Daniel finally entered Cheyenne Mountain. It wasn't like the place was unimpressive. On the other hand, it was beyond his expectation and imagination. Yet, he just could not accept the fact that this place had cost so much of Jack. He was missing, his children were at constant risk and their world had fallen apart. It didn't even out.

//For what?// he thought bitterly. His mind turned toward the Goa'uld file. //Universal peace?// He snorted, //What peace? Which universe?// Daniel remembered again Brad's near death experience and shivered. Everything suddenly turned ironic to him.

He was led into the heart of the mountain through a never-ending journey inside an elevator. He passed several checkpoints, acquiring multiple full body inspections, and could not prevent a near hysterical laugh.

It all seemed so comical. In fact it felt so… *Hollywood*.

//Yeah. And I'm Arnold Schwarzenegger//.

When he finally entered the briefing room, the first thing he focused on was Maybourne. The man was sitting in the center of the room as if he was the one who deserved to be there instead of General Hammond, who sat to his left. Major Samantha Carter, who looked like as if she wanted to be invisible, stood at the far corner of the room.

There was something in Maybourne's eyes he could not fathom.

//Is it fear?// he thought. //Surprise that we're still alive, eh?//

He remembered his rage after the incident with Brad, and was surprised to find himself able to control the bubbling anger inside him.

"It is best for you to not know the attacker's identity nor their affiliation," Sam had said to him with finality, despite her apology.

Daniel remembered that he only needed to take one look at her and asked, "Maybourne?"

Even though Sam had finally muttered something like, 'unclear' or 'uncertain', it had taken a long time for her to answer. He considered that it was enough of an answer for him.

"I heard that you won't take our accommodations for you, Doctor Jackson," Maybourne said in a slightly mocking tone.

"I have to make sure Jack's children are fine," Daniel said coldly. "I'll stay with them."

Hammond and Sam exchanged wary glances.

Maybourne snorted, "Now that's what I call a devoted *widow*."

"Maybourne," Hammond said. There was a cold, dangerous tone in his voice that forced everyone to silence. Maybourne turned his eyes elsewhere.

"He's still alive," Daniel said stubbornly and dared anyone to challenge him. Nobody said anything.

Finally, Hammond addressed his second-in-command, "Have you prepared the meeting?"

Maybourne raised his eyebrows, "Have these children been briefed, Sir?" He glanced toward Daniel and Sam.

"Answer my question."

"I have if you have, Sir." Maybourne's eyes narrowed. Yet, it was clear that there was still some respect in him toward Hammond.

"Good. Doctor Jackson, have you studied everything in the report?" Hammond looked at his newest and probably most valuable member of the Stargate Project.

"Yes." Daniel felt his heart drum furiously. He could not conceal his excitement, yet, he still felt fear.

"Good. We will be relying on you to be our translator," Hammond said and turned toward the door. "Let me introduce you to Stargate Command, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel rose and followed them.

//This is it,// he thought. //I'm here Jack//. He swallowed. //And I swear to God in Eternity that I'll get you here alive to be here by my side//.

Grand. Overwhelmingly magnetic.

That was what Daniel had thought when he saw the giant metallic ring for the first time. It was not just about the ring itself, he had said to himself. It was more about what that particular metal ring had represented, something mysterious and magical. Only a few feet away from it, he already felt the intense *pull*, an irresistible urge to just go and jump into it.

//As if I'm a little pilgrim drawn to the Qa'ba in Mecca//, he wondered. //It's too frighteningly exciting//.

"It's like watching the Great Pyramid for the first time," he murmured to Sam. "A deep, dark mystery beckoning desperately to be unravelled."

She nodded and gave him a slight smile, "I can relate to that. To me was more like seeing an alien spaceship. The illusion of grandeur, one can say that."

Daniel cocked his head to one side and stared at the Stargate thoughtfully. "Ah. But the impressive first moments only last… a second? Two seconds? After that they turned crushingly ordinary."

Sam snickered, "Mystery. We always take them for granted, huh?"

Hammond led them past a small operation room. There were several men sitting in front of electronic panels. Daniel did not miss their slight double takes when he became visible to them.

"You don't fit Doctor Noah Stockbridge's persona," Sam whispered. Doctor Noah Stockbridge was the anthropologist-archeologist who first discovered the Stargate. He was also one of the first who travelled intergalactic through the Gate before reportedly dying of a heart attack. Daniel had read his reports, and could not help feeling awed and flattered to be appointed as the heir of the eccentric scientist's legacy.

"Because I'm young and beautiful?" Daniel chuckled.

"This way, Doctor Jackson," Hammond called him. They walked toward the rampart. There were a considerable number of soldiers in full combat gear waiting for them.

"Why are they here?" Daniel turned toward Sam.

"Standard procedure. We never know what the other side brings us."

"I thought that we were greeting somebody familiar," Daniel frowned. The soldiers gave them salutes and followed Maybourne's order to be in a ready-to-attack position.

"We hope so. However, we aren't sure. The only ones who were familiar with them are dead and gone."

"You mean… Doctor Stockbridge?"

"And General O'Neill."

Daniel was silent. He warily watched the soldiers prepare their weapons.

"SG-9 coming in."

Daniel watched in awe when the ring brightened and its center came to life, as if a vortex suddenly opened. The blinding brightness comically reminded Daniel of some Hollywood's latest special effects. Especially when suddenly pieces of bodies blobbed out from it, amusingly reminded him of the 80's TV series Swamp Monsters, before finally appearing in full forms.

"Goodness," Daniel said.

Sam could not prevent her smile when she took in Daniel's amazed expression. However, a moment later, a curious pang of longing struck her. She swallowed.

Daniel stared wide-eyed at the incoming seven people.

One of them raised his hand and said, "All secure."

Hammond stepped forward and beckoned Daniel to follow him.

"Captain Hanson?"

The one who waved his hand gave Hammond a salute. "Sir, this is Martouf, the representative of the Abydonians."

Daniel watched a dark-skinned man in full regalia of what appeared to be an ancient Egypt costume stare at Hammond suspiciously. He felt a rush of excitement coming from him.

//Abydonian!// he felt like screaming. //This is an *alien*, for God's sake//. Yet, he could not help feeling a little disappointed seeing how similar the exotic outer world creature looked like a human.

//What do I expect? Small, faceless people?//

Hammond looked at him. "Doctor Jackson?"

Daniel stepped forward, and with eyes still full of wonder, he greeted the Abydonian man with the ancient language he had learned from Stockbridge's files. He felt a huge relief when the man returned the greeting knowingly.

"You are not Noah Stockbridge." Martouf watched him, still full of suspicions.

"I'm afraid you won't see him anymore. He died not long ago."

A flicker of something crossed the Abydonian's eyes. Daniel did not think he liked to see such an expression.

"And O'Neill?" The Abydonian's stare was so sharp it felt like it was boring a hole through Daniel's forehead.

Sorrow struck Daniel. He swallowed, "He's not available at the moment."

A look similar to a deer being caught in a light was etched in the dark face.

//Fear//, Daniel thought with a sudden anxiety. //The man feels fear//.

"This isn't what I expected." Martouf held his eyes intensely. At the precise moment, Daniel realized two things at the same time. One, the man was deathly frightened and two, he seemed to have decided to turn to *him* for help. Whatever trust he had given to Daniel, it was out of desperation and helplessness.

//Why?//

"Doctor Jackson?" Hammond called out. Apparently, Martouf's distressed was not missed.

"He's asking for Jack and Doctor Stockbridge." Daniel held Martouf's gaze. He felt a wave of sympathy and a strange sense of *protectiveness* to this lonely alien. It seemed as if the man picked that up.

"He looks uncomfortable," Maybourne said in a quiet tone. "Would you assure him to continue the negotiation with us?"

"Are you alright?" Daniel could not resist asking the alien. "What are you afraid of?"

Having decided that the man who spoke his language fluently was his ally, Martouf shook his head frantically, "I don't know this people. I can't make the deal. How do I know I can trust them?"

Daniel turned his head to Hammond. "He doesn't trust you."

"How do we make him trust us?" Hammond asked. Daniel relayed the question.

"O'Neill. We only deal with O'Neill. Return me to Abydos. Now."

Daniel turned to Hammond again. "He only wants to deal with Jack. He demands to be returned now."

"No. He can't." Maybourne stepped forward. His gesture apparently frightened Martouf, since the man took a step back warily.

"Maybourne, be wise," Hammond said quietly.

"Don't return him, General." Maybourne looked at Hammond defiantly.

Daniel watched the byplay between the two generals with rising discomfort. He turned to look at Martouf and tried to smile reassuringly. //The man trusts Jack//, he thought, and a wave of kinship suddenly came over him.

Martouf stared at him. "Who are you?"

"I'm Daniel Jackson."

"Those men aren't going to let me go, are they?"

Daniel glanced at the two generals who silently watched them. "No. I'm afraid not."

"Can I trust you?"

Daniel swallowed.

"What is he talking about, Jackson?" Maybourne asked. His tone had turned dangerous.

Daniel answered the alien, "I don't know. But trust me, I don't like them either."

"Jackson?" Maybourne asked with a slight impatience in his voice.

Daniel watched Martouf regard him with a calculating expression. A small smile formed. "You're not friends with them?"

"Not exactly."

"Doctor Jackson, you're suppose to translate each word to us," Hammond said in a warning tone.

Daniel tried hard to ignore the General. "But I'm a friend of O'Neill."

Sam stepped forward. "Daniel, please."

Daniel turned to the suspicious stares of his colleagues, and sighed, "I'm trying to make him trust me. Do you mind?"

"Translate *each* word, Jackson," Maybourne said.

Daniel looked back to Martouf. "They're asking me to make you trust me. Will you?"

Martouf looked curiously amused. "I think I trust you already." Then his eyes softened. "Are you a good friend of O'Neill's?"

Daniel swallowed, "Yes."

"Is he alright?"

Daniel turned to Hammond. "He expresses concern regarding General O'Neill. What should I tell him?"

Hammond pondered seriously. "Tell him that there are other duties that the General must attend."

Daniel sighed and turned back to Martouf. The man said softly to him, "You have sorrow in your eyes. Something bad has happened to O'Neill."

"Yes," Daniel said and cursed himself for feeling bitter tears at the back of his eyes. //Jesus. Just mention 'Jack', and I feel as if something has cut me in half//.

"General," Maybourne said. "We must escort this man immediately to the briefing room."

Hammond glanced at him without trying to conceal his annoyance. Yet, he turned to Daniel and said in a surprisingly apologetic tone, "Daniel, we're running out of time. Please tell him that it's very important he continues our negotiation. He doesn't have a choice."

Daniel said to Martouf, "You have to carry on the negotiation. They won't let you go back."

Martouf stared at him seriously. "I know that I have no choice. But I trust you, Daniel Jackson. Don't let anything happen to me. Or else."

Daniel swallowed. He finally looked at Maybourne. "He agrees."  
  
"Good. General?" Maybourne turned and walked away from the rampart.

Surprisingly, Hammond came to Daniel and gave him a curiously friendly pat on the shoulder. "Good work, Doctor Jackson." Then he followed Maybourne.

**************************

Once the universal translator was put into place, Daniel changed into a passive observant in the whole conversation.

He was highly disturbed to see what had happened before his eyes. The Abydonian was desperate. There was no question about it. He had come alone, unarmed, with nothing to hide. And he was afraid. That alone had struck a chord in Daniel's sense of justice and fairness. The alien had nothing to bargain with. He was asking for help.

And Hammond and Maybourne were playing hard to get.

He wanted to throw up.

//If not only because of Jack's secret file//, he reminded himself, //I would have withdrawn from this lunatic project//. He silently studied Maybourne. The man was all nerve. He looked cool and calm. Yet, nothing could fool Daniel.

//He knows nothing//, Daniel thought with guilty satisfaction. //He's impatience and afraid. He doesn't know what he's going to face exactly//.

"The sample," Maybourne said to Martouf. "We need another one. We have to be sure."

Daniel held himself. //Wealth. That's what's come down to it. Precious metal and new mineral ore for energy. It's all so disappointingly predictable//.

"Aren't those we gave you enough?" Martouf gritted his teeth. "Those materials are being retrieved by your own people! Can't you trust your own men?"  
Hammond signalled Maybourne to stop talking. He looked at the alien with compassion face. "We have to be sure, Martouf. And you must remember the deal from the first place."

Daniel was never sure about General Hammond. He barely knew him and he thought he had taken Sam and Jack's trusts to this man for granted. However, a deep, nagging feeling that mostly came from his long time distrust with the military had forced him to evaluate the man according to his own eyes.

//Hammond plays the sympathetic cop//, he thought, disturbed. He watched the byplay from the two generals and reluctantly concluded that the two staged a good cop-bad cop routine with perfection. //And up till now, Hammond never disagreed with whatever Maybourne suggested. He played along//. They complemented each other. It disappointed Daniel, because it felt like a *betrayal*.

Colour spots burst on Martouf's cheeks. He was as rigid as a statue. He leaned forward and said softly, "I suppose our leader, Kasruf, was too naïve to consider you to be trustworthy people."

//Ouch//, Daniel flinched.

"Look at what we're heading into. Accepting an enemy to escape another one."

"We are *not* your enemy, Martouf," Hammond said.

"Oh, but you act like one. You left us bare. Blackmailing us to give up our wealth for our freedom. I doubt that we will have it anyway. How can we be sure that once we defeat the Goa'uld you won't act like we owe you?"

"It's a simple concession deal."

"Over our land!" Martouf shouted. "We are peaceful people, and we dislike foreigners! Look at what the Goa'uld brought to us when we accepted them with open arms. We can't let the same thing happen to us again. I think it is better if we call this deal off."

Hammond gritted his teeth, "Martouf, you aren't being reasonable."

Maybourne interjected, "If you're so afraid of us, we'll bar our people from interacting with you. The land concession can be isolated."

Martouf suddenly jumped from his seat. "You think I'm a fool?"

Before anyone could prevent it, he ripped the universal translator from his body, and whirled toward Daniel with frantic eyes. "He doesn't know! These men don't know!"

Immediately, Daniel realized what he meant by that. "Yes! They don't know! But I do!"

Daniel's outburst surprised the Abydonian. His eyes widened. "Only O'Neill knows."

"O'Neill is my friend."

"Jackson!" Maybourne bellowed. "I'll get you suspended for this! Make the man use the translator, now!"

Daniel quickly took the translator and gave it to Martouf. He stared at the alien intently. "Trust me."

The Abydonian believed him, he slowly took the translator and smiled warily. "You know the name of the contact inside the enemy?"

"I know," Daniel said, then whispered softly. "Teal'c."

"Doctor Jackson, this is strictly out of line!" Hammond jumped from his seat. "Translate!"

The Abydonian put on the translator and said, "You don't have to strike your own men. I can give you a hint of what we're talking about myself."

"What is it?" Hammond asked.

"I don't trust you," Martouf said. "But I have no choice. From now on, I want *him* to be my contact." The Abydonian pointed at Daniel. "Every detail of the negotiation and plan will be discussed with this man."

Maybourne looked at Hammond exasperatedly. "General, this is absolute nonsense."

Hammond gritted his teeth, "Daniel Jackson has no power to decide."

"I don't care," Martouf said. "Other than with him, I don't want to continue this conversation."

"We can't let you go home if you don't cooperate," Hammond warned him.

The Abydonian looked at him straight in the eyes. "Then I'll rot here."

As expected, the rest of the conversation took a downturn. Martouf refused to continue as long as Hammond and Maybourne did not delegate their trust to Daniel.

This situation frustrated Maybourne beyond belief.

Finally, Hammond concluded the meeting, and requested several men to escort the alien to rest.

"You stay here, Doctor Jackson," he said warningly.

"I'll stay if he's out," Daniel glanced at Maybourne. Maybourne did not react, but his eyes narrowed dangerously.

To Daniel's relief, Hammond did not hesitate. "Maybourne, will you leave us?"

"General…"

"That's an order."

Maybourne grit his teeth and threw a cold stare towards Daniel. He walked out without saying anything, followed by mute Samantha Carter.

"Now," Hammond finally said after there were only the two of them. "We need to settle something important."

"I want to be sure, General. What are your values in this?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your values. I need to know which virtues you're going to cling to when difficult situations arise."

Hammond was silent for a long time, until he finally sighed, "My conscience."

Daniel released a breath that he was holding. "Good," he said. "At least I know that you'll listen to me if I protest."

"Daniel," Hammond said softly. The uncharacteristic first-name use sounded awfully funny to Daniel's ears. "I'm aware that we don't exactly know each other that well. But I like you already, simply because of the integrity and commitment you have shown me."

Daniel did not doubt that the General meant his faithful loyalty to Jack. He dared not think about what the General had thought about it.

"But the whole business about the Goa'uld isn't as simple as you think," the General continued.

"Oh, I know that," Daniel interjected. "I know it perfectly well. As well as I know reasons about alliances in war. It's never simply about fighting common causes or common enemies. It's all about power."

"You can have any opinion that you want. But the Goa'uld are a real threat. Even to us."

"Yet, you don't even hesitate to take advantage of weaker people."

"It's fair."

"It isn't. It's either you help them, or you leave the Gate buried so that the Goa'uld cannot come to us."

"They can," Hammond said quietly. "They're not that far away. A couple hundreds of thousands light years. Wait until next century and they will surely arrive in our solar system. I'm telling you, the threat is real."

Daniel did not comment.  
  
"And we need the Abydonian ore. They are… *priceless*. I can't describe it in a simple explanation."

"You can build dangerous weapon from it."

"That's unpreventable."

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment. "General, it's like a repeating cycle of history. It's all about colonialism, conquering new worlds."

"And during that time there is no wrong reason to do it in the first place."

"Can't you remember the price we paid for it, General?"

"We've never had any intention to colonize Abydos."

"That's what Christopher Columbus said, General. Now, look at the fate of the Indians."

"You can't back out from this project, Doctor Jackson. You're in too deep now. It's too dangerous for you."

"I know," Daniel whispered. "Then what should I do?"

"You'll see Kasruf and accompany Maybourne to finish up the business on Abydos."

"Which business?"

"The deal, and the preparation to attack the Goa'uld."

"I only obey you. Not Maybourne."

Hammond held his eyes intently, "I trust your judgment, Doctor Jackson. Use it wisely."

Daniel sighed loudly, "Very well. Let me know when I'm supposed to leave."

He stood up, then stepped forward to Hammond.

"Promise me, General," he said quietly. "Promise me you get Jack back and keep the children safe."

Hammond watched with solemn in his eyes. "I promise."

*************************

It was the third day of their journey across Iraq. The Americans finally settled inside the large house of Hadad, a rich young Kurd who owned most of the land of the northern territory. The man had wealth from opening black markets and smuggling everything in and out of the country.

Including Saddam's assassins.

There was no doubt about the man's loyalty -money, money, and money. However, after knowing him for more than a few hours, Jack could not prevent himself for admiring his pragmatism and independence. Despite his lack of patriotism, the man was a risk-taker, yet, a smart and highly calculated one. One in desperate danger could not help feeling safe beside him.

Today, Jack stared at the huddled forms of Hadad's little children, playing under the morning sun, and could not conceal his curiosity any longer. The young girl clad inside the black abaya was too old to be Hadad's daughter.

//And her blue eyes were so beautiful//, he thought.

"Who is she?" he asked Smythe softly.

"It's Najwa. Hadad's third wife."

Jack looked incredulous. "I don't think she reached puberty yet."

"Does it matter? Hadad takes good care of her. If he didn't marry her, she most probably had ended up dead of hunger."

Jack glanced at her and saw her running outside. She was a child, there was no doubt about that. The thought of such a young girl be married repulsed him.

"Why the sudden interest?" Smythe looked at him curiously. "I don't think it's a good idea to pay too much attention to somebody's wife here."

Jack blushed lightly. "I think she has an incredible pair of eyes."

"Ah," Smythe smiled. "The lure of Arabian eroticism. You can only see the eyes and you wonder about the rest of her."

"She has blue eyes."

"Some Arabs have blue eyes, you know. Not all of these people are purely of African descent." Smythe glanced at Jack and saw the dreamy stare. "Who knows, maybe she has blonde hair?"

Jack whispered softly, "Blue eyes and brown hair would look nice."

There was something about that tone that made Smythe hide his grin. He nodded knowingly, "Can't help thinking of someone back home, eh? My ex-wife was a great combination of blue and blonde."

Jack blinked.

"Is your special person a blue and brown combination?"

Again, another blink, before an intense rush of colour bloomed on Jack's face. "Oh… No, no, it's… he… *she's* just a good friend." Jack quickly stared elsewhere.

"I see. Colleagues?"

Jack felt a pang of guilt. He only nodded, surprised to realize that it wasn't Sam that he actually was thinking at the moment.

Smythe watched Najwa took Hadad's little toddler in her arms, and whispered, "I must admit that the young girl turned out to be a better mother than Hadad's other wives. She is practically nursing all of her stepchildren."

Jack swallowed, "Some people have that touch."

"Yeah," Smythe nodded. "They just pop out from nowhere, breeze into your life, and conquer your realm. No wonder Hadad fell in love with her, despite his initial intention to just foster and feed her."

Jack was silent for a long time.

Smythe studied the weathered face beside him, admiring the strong lines and the gentle good looks of the General. Jack was a handsome man, and he guessed that he was quite a heartthrob, too.

"Missing somebody?"

Jack swallowed. A deep sorrow was etched visibly on his face.

"I miss my sons," he whispered. "I wonder if they thought that I was dead already."

Smythe patted his shoulder. "I don't know about the official announcement, but since I have found you already, CIA is well informed that you're still alive and kicking. If

you think it's wise, I can ask the Agency to inform your family about your well being."

Jack dropped his head, "I don't know about that. I still need to get out of this country alive first."

Smythe nodded, "And such information would probably endanger your children."

Jack did not answer. Instead, he stared again at the scene of Najwa and the little toddlers, running around happily on her feet.

Smythe was ready to ask him other questions, but the lost and longing looks in Jack's eyes prevented him.

He noticed the soldier's brimming eyes, and watched him unconsciously used his thumb to rub his own lips softly. Smythe curiously watched the dreamlike little smile that was slowly forming on Jack's face, and could not help thinking about the similarity of the scene with young teenagers basking on the memory of their first kiss.

**********************

Brad greeted him with knowing eyes, "You're going away?"

Daniel nodded tiredly, "I'm sorry, Brad. Do you think it is possible for you to delay your move to Boulder? Unfortunately this may take a few weeks."

"I have a better idea. I'll enroll at the campus in Colorado Spring and watch over the dwarfs while you're away."

Daniel stared at the young man with sad expression. "I don't like you sacrificing your life so much."

"I don't. It's *you* who sacrificed your life for us. I don't know how to repay you."

Daniel smiled, "I consider the day you came into my life as a God's gift."

"Why?"

"Would you be willing to trade serving margaritas for the secret of world adventures? Brad, I can never thank you enough."

However, Brad's face became gloomy. "I don't think you're happy with your situation now."

Brad never asked Daniel about his present occupation. He just simply accepted that Daniel had taken over his father's role, both at home, and at his military missions. With the knowledge of invisible danger looming over them and the high secrecy of whatever information his father had acquired, it was enough knowledge for him to stay away. Beside, Sam had mentioned after his near kidnap experience that knowing too much was dangerous.

"I'm just tired," Daniel said half-heartedly. "But I don't want to be elsewhere."

Brad bit his lips, "Something happened, Daniel."

Daniel's heart pounded heavily. "Those mysterious men harassed you again?"

Brad raised his eyebrows. "Oh, no. No, we're perfectly safe, Daniel. General Hammond's men are great bodyguards. No. What I mean is that… Well… Grandma called."

//Sara's mother//. Somehow, Daniel knew that sooner or later he would finally face this moment.

"She contested Dad's arrangement on our life."

"What does she want?"

"She wants us to move to her home in Florida."

***************************

Martouf eyed the small camera above his head, "What's that thing?"

"It's a device to record all of your movement."

The Abydonian nodded, "Like a peeping hole, eh? I can see how it works."

Daniel glanced at it nervously.

"There isn't supposed to be a negotiation," Martouf said. "O'Neill did not arrange that to happen."

"What was his plan?"

"Destroy the enemy with as few casualties as minimum as possible. That's why he suggested us to plant spies. We don't need too many soldiers, and the Earth people don't necessarily need to send armies to Abydos."

"I read Jack's report."

"I'm glad. I know that O'Neill was keeping this as a personal secret. But he is no longer here and the secrecy could endanger us. Someone else on your side *must* know."

//I hope it's Hammond//, Daniel thought //But I can't read him at all//. He glanced at his watch. "Martouf, we need to get ready."

"How do I assure my people that Maybourne is trustworthy?"

"You don't have to assure them. It's up to your people to deem him trustworthy or not."

The Abydonian looked sad, "We have no choice, Daniel Jackson. We need your people's help."

Daniel sighed, "Let's pray then that fate sided with us."

************************

Sam stared puzzlingly at the drums on the two mobile carts. She approached Maybourne.

"Sir? May I ask what these drums are for?"

There was something glinted in Maybourne's eyes. "Some chemicals and tools to gather samples of the energy mineral."

"Then let me make an inspection clearance, Sir."

"That's unnecessary," Maybourne quickly said. "I have handled this. Your help isn't needed."

Sam felt the hair in the back of her neck rise. Something definitely wrong was happening, and she wondered what it was.

"Does General Hammond agree to the clearance, Sir?"

"There is no problem, Major. Now, will you desist with the questions?"

"Sir." Sam retreated warily. Her instinct flared. //Danger//.

***************************

The moment they stepped on the Stargate platform on Abydos, a horde of men with curious weapon-like tools were waiting for them.

Martouf led SG-1 and SG-9 members toward their settlement in silence. Daniel had heard several people asking about Jack's whereabouts and the curious drums Maybourne had brought. Martouf answered them curtly, making Daniel realize that the man did not want to alarm the common people about his difficult situation.

Finally, they reached a great hall in the middle of the exotic settlement, and greeted by none other than the great leader himself, Kasruf.

Maybourne stepped closer to Daniel, and whispered, "Remember, don't cross me. Translate *everything*, or…"

"Or what?"

Maybourne threw him a cold smile.

SG-1 and SG-9 traded greetings with Kasruf and the rest of the Abydonian officials. The atmosphere was wary and tense. Daniel could feel nervousness emanating from their host, and he couldn't help feeling sorry for them.

To his surprise, Maybourne turned out to be quite a diplomat himself. Despite his questionable motive and intention, he never provoked the host, spoke politely and respectfully, and seemed to be frank and open, though Daniel doubted that. The duty to translate each conversation turned out to be easier than he thought.

After exchanged light conversations for a while, the Abydonians relaxed. Martouf, however, was still as tense as before.

"General Maybourne asked about the situation with Apophis' men," Daniel finally relayed the important question.

Kasruf took a time to finally answer, "It's not very good. He had practically taken over most of our cities. We were lucky to reside safely near the Gate, since Apophis seemed aware that we have allies coming from it."

Daniel translated, feeling discomfort when Kasruf's face turned desperate and vulnerable. //This isn't good. Maybourne realizes that he's in a good position, and he'll take advantage//.

Indeed.

"Do you realize that in order to effectively put out Apophis and his 'Goa'ulds', a swift violent strike needs to be initiated?"

Kasruf turned to his officials and conferred quietly. They were speaking too softly for Daniel's hearing.

"We know," Kasruf answered sadly. "But we can't prevent it. We don't want Apophis to conquer us. Too many tragedies have occurred."

"Are you giving us permission to attack them?"

"Yes. We have no choice."

"Then will you be willing to allow us to set up our installation here?"

Martouf stiffened. He threw sharp glance toward Daniel, before scooting closer to his leader. He whispered softly, yet, everybody could feel the urgency on his tone.

Daniel felt his heart thunder. He glanced to see Maybourne's unreadable face and Sam's puzzlement, then turned to watch Martouf's darkened face and the angry expression of Kasruf. It was clear that the Abydonians disagreed.

"Did you catch their conversation, Daniel?" Sam whispered quietly.

Daniel shook his head.

Suddenly, the heated whispering conversation stopped abruptly. Martouf nodded politely toward Kasruf, despite the glares he was receiving, and surprisingly retreated toward the hall's exit. He exchanged meaningful glances to Daniel.

"I'll see you later in the welcoming feast," he said to Daniel.

Daniel nodded.

"What did he say?" Maybourne watched Daniel suspiciously.

"He'll be at the welcoming feast, and he expected us to be there."

Meanwhile, Kasruf said impatiently, "We agree."

Maybourne's face brightened considerably when Daniel relayed the decision.

"We suppose you have accepted our treaty proposal."

Kasruf looked hesitated for a moment, but then nodded heavily.

"Very well," Maybourne said. "Please tell them that we'll be putting up our weapons at the mine. We'll do some ore extractions as well, because we need to be sure that the negotiation is safe."

The conversation ended with Kasruf inviting them to a welcoming feast. They were quickly led into their rooms.

"Daniel, I don't like this situation," Sam said softly.

Daniel bit his lips. He was hesitating whether to trust Sam fully. It was apparent that Jack never shared the secret information to her, despite their long friendship. Daniel wondered why. Yet, at the same time, he felt a heavy burden for keeping the knowledge all by himself. Especially when he knew he had no power to prevent problems, and the fact that Martouf trusted him too much to right the situation.

"I don't get Maybourne's idea. I'm surprised General Hammond didn't say anything about this," Sam sighed.

//Maybe that's it//, Daniel thought. //Because of the rigid chain in command, Jack doesn't want to put Sam in a difficult situation. If he can't make it, then Sam will be under Maybourne and Hammond. Who knows, maybe the knowledge will endanger more, since Sam then is forced to share it with his superiors if conflicts arise//.

He watched Sam closely. "Sam, do you trust Jack?"

The question surprised her. "Why, yes."

"What about General Hammond?"

"Of course. Daniel what are you getting at?"

"Which one do you trust more? Jack or Hammond?"

Sam narrowed her eyes, looking highly disturbed. Yet, she took the question seriously. "Jack."

"Has Jack ever said anything about the alliance with Abydos to you?"

"Not to me directly. All Abydos issues came from General Hammond."

"He had different plans than Maybourne."

Sam snorted, "Obviously. I could see Martouf's distress over this. I wonder what Jack plan was, since Maybourne's suggestions rattled the man immensely."

Daniel inhaled deeply, "Apparently, Jack was preventing the Abydonians from giving up too much."

Sam was silent for a long time, until she finally reached her room. She turned to Daniel and nodded quietly, "Whatever Jack's plan is, I think I'll agree with him. I don't think I like the way we blackmailing the Abydonians. There's too much danger of corruption from that ore. I don't trust my own superiors to use it wisely."

"He and Martouf planted spies inside Apophis' side."

Sam raised her eyebrows. Her surprise was quickly followed by twinkles in her eyes, "So that's what those people are looking for."

"What people?"

"The men who stalked you in Washington. Or the mysterious people who almost kidnap Brad. They want to know the names."

Daniel nodded, "I suppose so."

"You know the names, don't you?"

Daniel hesitated, then decided. "Not exactly."

He left Sam feeling his heart a bit lighter. However, he could not help feeling as if he was caught in the middle of a maelstrom.

//Play it wisely, Daniel. Play it wisely//.

*****************************

The feast was incredible, and seemed as if the whole settlement was in celebration. However, one could not disregard the somber mood floating in the air. It was clear that the celebration was a mean to forget the tragedies, yet, the fear and desperation were as apparent as ever.

Daniel sat closely beside Sam, listening intently on her summary of the Abydonian ore qualities. It turned out that the ore was more valuable than he had already guessed. It had radioactive qualities but none of the danger. Sam already had described the possibilities of its use, which in turn made Daniel wonder whether this was what the 16th century Dutch and Portuguese felt when they found the spice island by accident.

Maybourne was strangely quiet the whole time. He did not pay attention to Daniel and Sam's close conversation, and he did not force(d) himself to have an animated sign language chat with the Abydonians. He was just too focused on his meal and Daniel felt disturbed to see him checking his watch too many times.

And SG-9 was not present at the moment.

He had asked Sam about it, and Sam only mentioned about they started to erect the ore extraction tools already. She wanted to help, but Maybourne ordered her to attend the feast.

"He wants you out from that place," Daniel muttered.

"I'm planning to check it out later," Sam nodded. She was suspicious herself with all of the secrecy. She remembered Hammond's puzzling message before she embarked. //"Be careful, Major. Be careful. We rely on your instinct and knowledge to handle difficult situation"//. She could not help feeling that Hammond had been helpless and placed his fate on Sam's shoulder.

"Be careful," Daniel whispered back.

Suddenly the air of the room changed, and Daniel noticed heads turned. He wondered what happened, and turned toward the entering corridor.

There she was.

The most beautiful creature Daniel had ever seen.

Kasruf rose and greeted her, "Sha're."

The young woman, aware of her capability to attract attention, glided to Kasruf like a goddess. To Daniel's surprise, she looked around the room closely. Challenging each and every one of the admiring stares from the males surrounding the feast table. It was clear that she was used to this.

"This is my daughter," Kasruf said. There was a note of pride in him.

"Who is she, Daniel?" Maybourne finally showed some interest.

"Sha're. Kasruf's daughter," Daniel whispered.

Their brief mutterings apparently caught Sha're's attention, and suddenly, her dark ore of beautiful eyes turned to SG-1.

And rested finally on Daniel.

All Daniel noticed at the moment was how those eyes suddenly burned brightly.

"You're different," she whispered in a husky tone.

Daniel swallowed, not knowing what to answer. //Different? Different how?//

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," he said. He felt the sudden silence across the room, and even Maybourne and Sam were looking attentively to their exchange.

A flush of colour appeared on the woman's face, and strangely, it made Daniel feel relief that she wasn't as bold as he thought before.

"You're beautiful," she whispered and blushed furiously.

Daniel felt himself frozen to the spot, not knowing how to react.

He was flattered beyond belief to hear that appraisal from someone this beautiful, but then… There was something. Something disturbed him.

Kasruf suddenly rattled his goblet, desperate to turn the silent atmosphere back into balance. There was disturbance in his eyes, and Daniel felt his heart sinking when the old man suddenly threw him a calculated glare.

//What have I done?//

He spent the rest of the evening fidgeting, since it was apparent that now he was the only thing that Sha're paid attention to.

*****************************

It was not until the third day in Abydos, Maybourne finally let Sam come near the mine. She took Daniel to check on the site, all the time wondering with all the secrecy of the General and Captain Hanson's SG-9 team members.

According to her point of view, nothing seemed to be abnormal. SG-9 had erected a small exploration platform over the mine, and built a temporary shelter for the artillery and ammunition. There was one small metal bunker that was kept locked, and it intrigued Sam immensely. She vowed to find a way to take a look at it.

In the meantime, Daniel grew uncomfortable with his situation. Not only had the negotiation disturbed him a great deal, Sha're's apparent interest in him had created discomfort as well.

He translated the conversation between Maybourne and Kasruf with bitterness, hating each and every one of it, because he could clearly see how destructive the incoming war would be. Maybourne had noticed Apophis' reluctance to strike on Kasruf's settlement; therefore, he pursued the idea of invasion. Martouf had turned submissive as well, mostly because he had no choice. He was Kasruf's general, and he could not abandon his leader wishes for that reason. He was no longer able to talk to Daniel freely; therefore, he obeyed Kasruf's order to start preparing their soldiers.

On another matter, Daniel could not prevent the electricity between him and Sha're. It was a lie not to admit that the vestiges of his heterosexual drives were struggling to come back. She was one gorgeous creature and damn well irresistible.

Daniel himself was not surprised to realize that he himself was an exotic creature. In a realm full of dark-skinned men, his fresh fairness and gentle feature stood out.

As Sha're had already mentioned, he was different. Even from SG team members, whose uniform military machismo had made them appear dull and shallow.

Sha're didn't do anything drastic, like chasing him or lavishing unwanted attention. Yet, she kept her interest clear and honest in her own sweet way, which rattled her father. It was a very unpleasant situation to Daniel, because he simply did not know how to react.

Besides, Daniel knew that it wasn't Kasruf's irritation that bugged the hell out of him. It's about something he felt when Sha're was around.

//Or maybe it's me//, he thought with despair.

It was the way those beautiful dark eyes watched him tentatively and hopefully. It was the way her face shone when he smiled at her, or darkened with despair when he blatantly ignored her. It provoked some unwanted reaction inside his chest.

//Danger//, his instinct told him. He always had an amazingly strong urge to run as far away from her, while simultaneously suffering strong, painful attacks inside his chest. He knew what it was. He always had those sensations before disastrous incidents happened in his life. Just like when Jack informed him about his going away mission.

//Bad luck//, Daniel remembered. But he knew that this time it was different. The last time he got this, his intuition told him that the bad luck would come upon Jack.

Not this time.

//It wasn't Sha're//, he thought. //Maybe it's me?//

As if it wasn't bad enough, Daniel also realized how his irrational fear toward Sha're had led to an even more complex emotional reaction. Like attraction. Animalistic attraction, nurtured by fear and the lure of danger. //Who can blame adrenaline-based pulls? The more we realize its danger, the more irresistible it becomes//.

It scared him beyond belief.

If there was something that calmed him, it was the memory of Jack. Jack, a military man who gave out aura of safety, comfort, and love. So different from Sha're, an exotic harmless woman who gave out aura of danger, out of control headiness, and frightening obsessions. Daniel found it amusing about how such auras usually worked the other way around.

Jack. A man that had surprisingly succeeded in planting a firm foot in Daniel's heart and mind in just a short time. A man, that even though was worlds away still managed to ground and anchor Daniel. If he wasn't so sure he loved Jack before, he was now.

//And I don't even know if we can ever meet again//, he thought with total despair.

Daniel had finished his daily report on Abydos culture when Sam entered his room. She was looking pale and tired.

"You don't look good, Sam," Daniel said with a sudden, irrational bloom of anxiety.

"I don't particularly feel well," Sam sighed. "I think I have a mild fever and my head aches."

Daniel jumped from his seat, heart pounding wildly, to touch Sam's forehead.

"My God, Sam. You're burning up! What happen?"

Fear. //Oh God… Something terrible is going to happen//. Daniel dragged her to sit on the bed, a gesture that helped him calm down a little. He felt ridiculous with the overwhelming fear he had felt.

"Maybe sunstroke." Sam did not hesitate to lie down on Daniel's bed and closed her eyes. "Or the food I ate."

"What food did you eat?" Daniel quickly took out his medicine bag. //Should I force her to vomit?// "Is it Abydonian food? I can call Martouf to assist."

"No, no," Sam chuckled and reassured him. "It's not that bad, and I didn't eat Abydonian food. It's just sunstroke, Daniel. I only ate Hanson's M&M chocolates down at the mine. Maybe I took too much. Don't worry."

But her pale face turned even greener.

"Sam, you don't look good. Honestly." Daniel finally handed her some Tylenol.

Sam took them, and smiled casually to Daniel, "Relax, Doctor Jackson. I just need to lie down a little while, I think."

Daniel stared worriedly. The unpleasant wariness and anxiety were still thrumming all over his body.

"Daniel," Sam sighed and got up from the bed. "I'm fine. Please, don't worry."

"Let me know if you need assistance, Sam," Daniel finally tried to chuckle.

"I'll pass on dinner," she said. "See ya."

Daniel was still staring at the doorway long after Sam had retreated into her own chamber. Still deep in his thought, he absently read his time schedule. //Dinner invitation to Kasruf//. He could almost see Sha're's dark, inviting eyes. He shivered. He knew that he had to do something to avoid the incoming feast occasion.

*******************************

Daniel was quite surprised to notice that he was alone. It seemed that the whole SG team members had decided to attend Kasruf's dinner party; therefore, the mine was fully neglected for the first time.

Daniel did not know why there was a sudden urge to do this. All he knew was that Maybourne was up to something. But he didn't know what it was.

He walked silently toward the mine. Studying the rig and all the equipment there. He wasn't familiar with the construction, but his keen mind could associate the basic mechanical function simply from seeing the way it stood. Extractions. Nothing suspicious enough, despite Daniel's realization that Maybourne did not just extract samples.

//The son of a bitch *stole* the ore//.

He could imagine how much ore that could be extracted by machineries as sophisticated and large as the one in front of his eyes. Way above *sample* quota. He filed that information in his mind, thinking that he should discuss this with Sam and report it to Hammond.

He finally led himself toward the storage bunkers. Both he and Sam had been very curious about these bunkers. So far, there was nothing out of ordinary about this place. Yet, he just felt…

//Damn my intuition//, Daniel sighed to himself. //It has brought me trouble too often//.

He checked on the first one. He sighed when he saw the drums inside, still unsealed, with the ore filling them. //Stealing indeed//.

He walked inside the next bunker, and stood frowning at the rows of small metal boxes. //What are these things?// He thought they looked familiar. But he wasn't sure why. //Have I seen these somewhere?// Sam had mentioned that those were multipurpose metal containers. //But why so many?// He remembered that the last time he checked this bunker together with Sam, there were only a few of these boxes. //What's Maybourne up to?//

Curious, he slowly squatted in front of them, teasing the lids, only to find that the boxes were all locked.

Shrugging, he left them, and finally, found himself standing in front of the secret bunker. The one Maybourne had been adamant to shoo him and Sam far away from.

He stared at the lock, wondering whether he should risk this. He didn't hesitate long. Before he was aware of it, his hand clutched on the digital lock and shook it lightly. //It's impossible to pick//, he thought restlessly. Yet, he didn't give up.

He studied the whole bunker for a long time. He almost gave up when suddenly he realized that there was a lid that was half opened. He quickly tested it, and realized that it was a result of some negligence to close the lid properly before locking.

Not able to contain his excitement, Daniel raised it slightly.

Boxes… and… small bottles.

//What the hell?//

He pointed his flashlight to one of the bottle. Perhaps if he could see the label…

His hand brushed on something. He turned his attention from the bottles, feeling funny because a small piece of paper from the lid was stuck into his finger. He unfolded it, and stopped cold when he saw something odd written on it.

//Arabic letters?//

He took it closer to his eyes, and summoned his forgotten memories of Arabic letters reading. //Ba--//, he squinted his eyes. //Ba-gho-da-di?// He frowned.

//Baghodadi?//

Then, the recognition blew him.

//BAGHDAD?// He gasped, suddenly feeling suffocated. //BAGHDAD? As in IRAQ?// And yes, there it was. It was printed tiny at the corner of the sticker. //IRAQI//.

"Oh God!" Daniel jumped back. He distinctively felt his body turn cold, at the same time feeling as if his thundering heart was forcefully trying to crawl out from his throat.

Fear. Terror. Jack's face popped into his mind.

"Oh God!" He scrambled back to open the lid and frantically trying to read the bottles. They were Arabic. All of them. And now, he finally could make the reading out.

"Nerve gas," he gasped. "Arsenic compound. Cyanide." His world turned in front of him. //Chemical bombs//. He squeezed his eyes tightly, "Oh God. No. Don't let

them be… NO. Not *that*."

An invisible force made him shut the lid with a bang. He no longer could think. He ran back toward the previous bunker, and took one of the metal box out.

Frantically, he tried to open them. It failed. But he already knew what's inside.

"NO," he gasped. //I now remember where I saw these boxes//. He tremblingly wiped his wet forehead. "In the city. I saw them in the city," he suddenly laughed hysterically. "Son of a bitch. Maybourne isn't just going to destroy the Goa'uld. He's going to destroy *everything* in Abydos."

Caught in his pure terror, amazement, and dawning realization, Daniel did not hear the soft clicking behind him.

All he realized was that there was a sudden pain in his chest.

//What the--?//

Blood.

//Whose blood?// he gasped, watching the redness splattered from his chest. //Jack?//

"Pain," he mumbled puzzlingly. //Why?//

By the time he finally acknowledged that the blood was his, his world turned black.

*****************************

It was as if she was drowning. Deeper and deeper. Uncontrollable. And scary.

//Open my eyes//. But it was as if such a simple task was impossible. //Headache. Damn headache//.  
But then, she had to.

An incredible effort. But finally, she managed to raise one of her eyelid.

//Light. Blinding, painful light//. She squeezed her eyes shut again. Terribly wanting to shut herself down. Yet, despite her closed eyes, the world rocked.

"Major Carter. For God's sake. Wake up!"

Something urgent. That voice was desperate. //Daniel?//

"Y… yes?"

"Wake up!"

No. Something happened. It was not Daniel.

And it sounded really harsh.

//Must open my eyes//, she gritted her teeth, and forced herself to blink and welcome the blinding light.

There was a face looming on her.

"Han… Hanson?"

"Get up," Hanson said. Then another familiar click followed.

//What the hell--?//. A gun.

"Major Carter, you are under arrest for the murder of Doctor Daniel Jackson."

*************************************

Jack was studying his map meticulously when the hut's door opened abruptly. He jumped aside, gun automatically drawn, ready to fire.

"Whoa! Hold! Hold!" A little man, about half his age, took a step back. He should have looked surprised; instead, a wide grin was plastered all over his mouse-like face.

"Who are you?" Jack asked. He only slightly relaxed when he realized that the man spoke English with an unmistakably Bostonian drawl. Whoever he was, he wasn't one of Saddam's relatives.

"Derek Ashcroft, Reuters," the man answered cheekily. "I'm *very* excited to finally see you, General O'Neill."

At that moment, Smythe entered the door, looking at Jack sheepishly.

"Smythe, what the hell?" Jack barked.

"Relax, Jack. He'll be helpful."

"A reporter?"

Ashcroft squinted his eyes, "Hey! I may not be a member of the black ops nor some fucking spy, but believe me, you need me to get out alive."

Smythe's expression looked even more sheepish. "I told you, we no longer have a proper back-up system. His contacts would be helpful once you're back in DC."

"He's *coming* with us?" Jack could feel his face grew hot. He was livid.

"It's a fair trade," Ashcroft shrugged. "Would you please put down your weapon, Sir?"

Jack put the gun in the table, and sat back to his chair without trying to hide his displeasure. He narrowed his eyes to Smythe. "I don't do civilian entertainment."

"You have no choice, Sir. Besides, I am a handy kind of guy. Believe me," Ashcroft smiled. "Now, will you fill me in about tonight's plan?"

************************

He came into consciousness when a rush of air jammed inside his throat. Daniel gasped loudly and coughed with all of his might, before giving up to a jarring pain at his chest.

A soft hand stroke his forehead. Sha're.

"Sam?" Daniel croaked to the beautiful woman.

Sha're frowned.

"Sam. Sam Carter. My friend," Daniel whispered intently, all the while frantically trying to recall his memory while his body sent him sensory recognition. //I was shot!//

Sha're's face darkened even more, "Your *lady* friend?" There was venom in her voice. It made Daniel squinted warily to her.

"Yes. Where is she?"

Sha're stopped stroking his head. She looked at him with fury and resentment. "She got what she deserved."

It took a moment for Daniel to digest the information, until a sudden horrible realization came to him.

//NO!// Daniel stared back in terror. Fear clawed on his body, leaving him in freezing cold. //She can't be dead!//

"What… What do you mean?" he asked in panic. "Is she hurt?"

Sha're jumped from her seat. Her face flushed. "Why are you so concerned? She didn't love you, Daniel Jackson."

"What do you mean? Where is she?"

"Father has taken her to the exile! She deserves it! After all, she's the one who *hurt* you!" She spat with bitterness. "And I'm the one who *saved* you! Everybody thought that you're *dead*! Yet, I brought you back to life! You, you… ungrateful *human*!"

"*Hurt* me? What are you talking about? She didn't do *anything*!"

Daniel watched in horror when she stomped her feet like a child, and ran toward the door.

"NO! Don't go!" he shouted desperately, wincing in pain. //Exile? What the hell?// "What do you mean *exile*? Stay! Tell me what happened!"

The door slammed forcefully then audibly being locked from the outside, leaving Daniel alone, realizing that he was trapped inside a darken room without any windows.

********************

Darkness had finally come. The light slowly disappeared from the small air hole at the top of the wall, so that the cold stone walls of the cubicle where she sat blended perfectly with tha pitch blackness of the night.

Sam shivered and screamed for the thousandth time, "Somebody! Help!"

Nobody answered.

She slumped defeated. All the hope that she had been holding on to finally deserted her. She had been here all day. And so far, nobody had even come to see her. In fact, she was no longer sure if anybody was within a reasonable distance.

//Daniel//, she thought in despair. //You *can't* be dead!//

//Maybourne? Where is he? Why did he put me in this?//

Sam squeezed her eyes tightly, and finally, bawled like a baby.

**********************

It was too easy.

The rumbling shacks, which were supposed to be the place the world had feared, were deserted. Nobody was present, and even the twenty kilometre radius of the place was empty and dead.

"Are you sure this is the infamous factory?" Ashcroft asked in a petulant tone. He bit his camera's hanger rope nervously and disappointedly. "Looks a bit lonely."

Jack gritted his teeth, "No. This is the one. I'm not mistaken."

"I suppose Al Thaleb kept his end of the bargain," Smythe shook his head. He glanced at the reporter sternly. "It's off the record."

"Give me a break," Ashcroft smirked. "It's not like I don't know anything. Let's compare notes, shall we? I bet we have much more information than CIA does."

Jack opened the door. His flashlight taking in the scenery of abandoned chemical lab. Long tables were slowly gathering dusts; vials and glasses carelessly stacked up in the sink, mostly still containing some form of colourful liquid in it; drums were rolled over, spilling the left of its contents; floor was damp and dirty, with plenty of boot-marks all around.

"Back out," he warned his colleagues. "This place is still dangerous. They don't bother to clean up properly."

They quickly stepped back.

"Great job," Smythe sighed. "Not even a danger sign was put here."

"Like anybody cares," Jack answered curtly. "This is supposed to be illegal, and around here, the nearest neighbour doesn't even understand what a chemical bomb is. So, why bother to clean up?"

"Let me get a few pictures," Ashcroft took his camera up. He turned to Jack with hesitation. "No flash?"

"No flash. We don't want something to blow up prematurely because of it."

Jack walked back to the truck, and took out his things. Smythe helped him.

Ashcroft stopped his activity when his two companions strutted back with various explosives in their hands.

"Can I take the picture? I sure hope National Geographic will love it: The Fireworks of the Mesopotamia, legacy of Saddam Hussein. Burning to ashes."

"As long as we remain nameless and faceless," Smythe smiled.

"Hey, you're X and he's Y."

Of course the building produced a great fireworks display once it was lit up. But then, no one was around to impress, nobody came screaming and shooting. It was such a wasted entertainment in the middle of the desert, with only three spectators who enjoyed the scenery by sitting cosily nearby.

"Well," Smythe finally said, when the chain of explosions stopped and they were only left with the crackling sound of fire and building collapsing. "Next stop, Syria."

*********************

Finally, when dawn came, Sam heard footsteps.

Cold, tired, sleepless, thirsty, hungry, and frightened, Sam scrambled up from her cot and banged the locked door. "HEY! In here! Help!"

The footsteps stopped. Hesitated. Then finally turned toward her direction.

Frantic with hope and fear, Sam banged the door even louder.

"Who's out there? Daniel? Maybourne? ANSWER ME!"

The footsteps stopped in front of the door. Yet, nothing happened. Sam stared wide-eyed. Expecting. But still, nothing happened.

"OPEN UP!"

A man outside suddenly shouted back.

Sam gaped, "Who is this? Daniel? Hanson? HEY!"

A stream of unfamiliar sentences was heard. It was enough for Sam to slump. Whoever he was, he's Abydonian. He wouldn't understand her.

"Please!" Sam croaked in despair. "Find Daniel Jackson! Please!"

Silence. Then the man shouted back.

Sam squeezed her eyes tight. "Daniel Jackson! Please!"

Suddenly, the footsteps withdrew. Sam gasped, "Oh no! NO! NO! Don't go! HEY! HEY!"

He didn't stop.  
  
***************************

They went through the Syrian border at dawn by car. It was surprisingly easy. They just passed their fake passports, made ready by Ashcroft, to a bunch of bored soldiers. They let them go without taking a notice, except murmuring, "Reporters" with *that* kind of tone.

They stopped at a small town called Mari, and Smythe took them into a nearby inn. Jack spent the afternoon taking a long nap, Ashcroft typing furiously with his laptop, and Smythe disappeared to get another contact of his.

Once dusk came, the three of them went down to get dinner and relaxing at the lobby.

Jack noticed that nobody was paying any attention to the three of them.

"There's an anthropological site somewhere here," Smythe explained. "It's a part of the Holy Land tour. Foreigners are no longer exotic things."

Jack bit his lip. The mention of 'anthropology' bristled him. It reminded him of Stargate Project, //Maybourne must have gotten it//, and… Daniel //hope he's taking care of the kids//.

"What did you get?" Ashcroft looked at Smythe enthusiastically.

"I've checked with everybody, and it's true that the shipments came through here. They smuggled the last of the chemical components through the border a week ago and stored them at some airstrip storage room. It had sat there waiting to be flied out. I saw the airstrip, and believe me, it was *busy*. I guess the transportation has just arrived."

"No wonder it's so easy to pass the border. If chemical bombs can be smuggled that easily, what can they do about an American black ops member and a CIA spy?" Ashcroft snorted.

"Do you know where the *merchandise* is being transported to?" Jack chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully.

Smythe looked at him funny. "Reykjavik Air Base."

Jack stared silently for a long, long time. "Don't tell me."

"Yup," Smythe nodded. "*United States* Air Force Base."

Ashcroft dropped his jaw, "WOW!"

*****************************

Sam was sure that this was the end of her life. She did not know how long she was here, but judging from her dried throat, the paralysing headaches, and the painful hunger, she calculated that she was abandoned for almost three days.

Even when the door was finally unlocked and a large, handsome, dark man came with a tray of food and water, she thought that she was hallucinating.

The man looked at her thoughtfully. From her blurry eyes, he looked… sorry. But of course it was just a trick of her imagination.

Or was she just dreaming it?

Somebody was here?

"Daniel…," she croaked. Maybe the dream man would go away again like usual. But at least, she wanted to try.

The head cocked to one side.

Sam widened her eyes.

He did not disappeared.

"Daniel… Jackson," she said again. When the man was still standing there, hope suddenly blared in her chest.

"Can you… bring him… to me? Daniel… Jackson? Maybourne?"

The man looked at her without comprehension. But he did not move.

"Oh God," Sam croaked and tried hard to sit. She was weaker than she thought, because suddenly her elbow wouldn't hold up her body.

She would probably have banged her head if a pair of strong arms had not caught her.

Sam squinted to her captor. //Hope? Maybe he…?// Yes. The man seemed to be willing to communicate with her.

She desperately tried to think of something. //Something he would understand//. The man squatted next to her, and then took up the bowl with water, pushing it to her hand and made a gesture to make her drink.

Gratefully, Sam gulped a large amount of it.

She finished the whole bowl and felt the surging energy in her body. She turned to the man, and watched some emotion flickered across the black eyes.

"Thank you," Sam tried to smile. The man sensed her gratefulness, because suddenly a row of white teeth was shown.

He was smiling.

Sam now knew that this was hope. Real hope.

"Please," she said desperately. "Help me. I don't understand what's happening. Help me."

The man shook his head with lost expression. He talked back in his native language, seemingly asking her questions.

Sam slumped dejectedly. //Useless. This is useless//. She would end up dead here. She was sure now. Bitter tears jumped from her eyes. "God. Can't you do anything?"

The tears clearly startled the man, because he stopped talking and now looked at her closely.

//Say something, Sam//.

"Daniel?" she tried again. //Did he know Daniel?//

"Kasuf?" she whispered. The man looked at her with annoyance then shook his head passionately.

//He doesn't want to get Kasuf for me. Why?//

There was only one hope left.

"Martouf? Please?"

The man was surprised. He was now watching her with interest. He said softly, "Martouf."

"YES!" Sam brightened. //Finally!// "Martouf! Yes! Please get Martouf for me!"

"Martouf?" the man asked her.

Sam swallowed hard, "Martouf." She then punched her chest repeatedly. "Sam."

She watched his reaction. Wonder was visible in his eyes.

"Sam," Sam said and quickly took both of her hands together. "Martouf. Sam. Friends."

Nothing.

She felt the incoming tears. "Sam," she croaked tiredly. Her clasping hands were now shaking. "Martouf."

She gulped then finally whispered, "O'Neill."

Suddenly, the man jumped back. His eyes widened. It was enough information for Sam. The man knew Jack.

"O'Neill!" Sam cried desperately. She clapped her hands together and imitating handshakes. "Sam! Martouf! O'Neill!"

"O'Neill?" the man said.

"Yes. Yes. Please?"

They stared at one another for a long time. He finally spoke with a harsh tone. Among his speech, Sam only recognized the word 'Martouf'. Whatever it was, the man looked like trying to say that he would get Martouf to her.

"Please," Sam said. "I think… I think I understand what you mean. Get Martouf? Please."

Surprisingly, the man nodded. He had caught on Sam's desperation. His eyes were gentle and full of compassion. It filled Sam with relief beyond words.

The man smiled, and slowly punched his own chest.

"Yes?" Sam smiled back without any uneasiness. She felt that she could trust this man.

The man tapped on Sam's chest. "Sam." Then slapped on his. "Teal'c."

Sam looked at him, "Teal'c?"

"Teal'c." The man punched his chest. "Teal'c."

*************************

Jack smoothed his uniform and watched himself in the mirror. He had painfully tried to clean up his combat gear and the result was satisfactory. He took up his hat, where a star was sown to it.

He turned to see his two companions. "How do I look?"

"Like the real thing," Ashcroft grinned. Then, he pouted, "I wish I could go with you."

Jack smiled back, "Not your fight, kid. You'd jeopardize the mission."

He sighed and shrugged. Jack turned to Smythe and said, "I guess this is it."

"This is it," Smythe nodded. "You're on your own."

"A she-bang comeback," Jack said. "Not a chance."

"We'll take care the she-bang," Smythe smiled conspiratorially with Ashcroft. "*After* you finished up everything."

"You've both been a great help, " Jack grinned and shook Smythe's hand warmly. "Thank you."

"It's a great pleasure working with you, Jack. Send my regards to your family and loved one."

"Loved one?"

"Brown and blue," Smythe laughed when Jack suddenly blushed furiously.

Jack shook Ashcroft's hand. "You be careful. Nosy is dangerous."

The young man rolled his eyes. "I'm a reporter for God's sake."

"Anyway," Jack patted his shoulder. "I really hope this works."

Ashcroft turned serious. "Don't worry, General. Just follow my contact, okay? We won't publish anything until your position is clear. Just let me know when. Okay?"

Jack nodded and turned to Smythe again, "Promise you'll take care of my men's bodies before I came back for them?"

"They'll get the treatment they deserved," Smythe answered.

Jack left with a lighter heart. He walked with dignity toward the small car, prepared by Smythe, then turned to wave at the two men.

After a long drive, the car finally reached the airstrip.

Smythe was right. The airstrip was busy for a deserted village like this.

And there was a USAF plane.

Jack gritted his teeth painfully. He stared at the plane with anger bubbling in his chest.

//They don't even bother to cover the plane!// He cursed silently, wondering if such hypocrisy was the reasons why the Syrians and Iraqis showed such disrespect for the US government.

The car stopped in front of the main building.

Several Syrian soldiers jumped from their seats warily, guns pointed at him.

Jack got out, ignored them and walked without hesitation inside. No one stopped him.

There were several of them, USAF Airmen, Lieutenants and a Major. They swiveled toward him in surprise.

"Attention," Jack barked. Those men jumped and saluted. Fear and confusion were etched deeply in their faces. Jack could almost taste their questions. //Why the hell a US *General* is here?//

There was no going back now. He gave them a return salute and went for the kill, "Has everything done?"

Somebody answered, "Almost, Sir. We only need a couple more hours for the last shipment before flying back to Reykjavik."

Jack wondered if these boys knew what they were going to transport.

"Forget about the rest. No shipment left. We must go back now."

"But, Sir…"

"Didn't you lose contact with your source?" It was just a bluffing question, but Jack figured that with the factory blown up to pieces and no Iraqian bothered to smuggle anything to Mari for the past twenty four hours, these boys were waiting for nothing.

"Y… yes, Sir."

"You'll rot here waiting for the next contact. These are all we've got. Now, let's get going."

There's a small hesitation, but the men hurriedly went out from the building, leaving a Major standing attention in front of Jack.

"Major Milos?" Jack read the name badge. "I'm Jack O'Neill."

Jack warily watched his reaction, but amazement and recognition was the only emotions appeared on that face. //They don't know//, Jack sighed with relief.

"Sir? Oh, *Sir*. It's a real *pleasure* to meet you."

"Who's your superior?"

"Colonel Louis Chen. Should I advise him of your arrival, Sir?"

Louis Chen. Jack remembered him. Maybourne's ex adjutant.

"Nah. Let it be a surprise. Shall we go, then?"

"Sir, yes, Sir."

**************************

They reached Reykjavik at midnight.

Jack had specifically requested Major Milos to keep his presence a secret, however, he told Milos to ask Colonel Chen to board the plane once they landed.

He had checked on the cargo, and even though he was appalled, he couldn't help feeling relief that there were only three small drums on the plane. He could handle three small drums.

Colonel Chen was furious. Jack could hear him over the radio exchange. He could not help feeling amused and even a little giddy with the expectation of seeing the expression on Chen's face when he found out who was aboard his precious plane.

Of course Chen didn't disappoint him.

The Colonel was practically speechless when he boarded the plane and came face to face with his mentor's biggest rival. Guilt and fear was all over his face, but he could not do anything. Not in front of his men.

"Sir," he gulped audibly.

"I suspect they don't know anything," Jack threw glances toward the airplane crew. They stood in attention with puzzlement all over their face.

Chen shook his head slowly, "No, Sir."

"Good. It's only you, then?"

The Colonel did not answer.

"Well, well. Loyal to the bone, eh? Come, Colonel. We need to have a private talk."

It was very easy for Jack to hint to Chen that he held a handgun inside his pocket, secretly pointing at him. The Colonel walked stiffly toward the main building, passed several guards who looked surprise to see Jack.

Finally, they were inside Chen's private office.

"Tell me everything," Jack said in a dangerous tone.

"What should I tell you, General?"

"Names. Destinations. For crying out loud, Chen. Do you realize what you are doing?"

The man had the grace to look ashamed, but he stood defiantly. "I take full responsibility of it, Sir."

"Names. Maybourne?"

Chen didn't answer.

"Fine. It's Maybourne," Jack smirked. "I should have known. The son of a bitch. Now. Where are you taking these bombs?"

Chen's face turned pale. "*Bombs*, sir?"

"Oh for cry… Jesus! You don't know either?"

It seemed impossible, but Chen's face turned even paler. "They are only chemical compounds, General."

"GOD! Are you that naïve? Chemical compounds? Iraq? Smuggled through Syria?"

Chen gulped, but he remained silent.

"Get me your files."

"Files, Sir?"

"*Your* flight authorization documents. *Yours*."

Chen was now sweating profusely. He whispered, "Don't, Sir."

Jack narrowed his eyes, "Do you have those files?"

Louis Chen squeezed his eyes shut.

"Who does your report?"

"Milos, Sir."

"Fine. Get Milos in here." Jack waved his handgun and put it back inside his pocket. "I suppose you don't need *this* for encouragement anymore. You're practically ready to piss your pants."

Colonel Louis Chen woodenly took his phone and punched several buttons. "Get me Major Milos."

Major Milos came bounding happily inside. It was clear that he was excited for some unknown reasons. Yet, his beaming face died once he was inside Chen's office. He felt the uncomfortable tension between the two men.

"Did you do Colonel Chen's flight authorization reports?"

"Why, yes, Sir."

"Get them for me."

Milos looked puzzled and turned to see Chen's face.

"Major?" Jack barked.

"But, General. Everything is stored by Colonel Chen."

Jack looked at him seriously, "Are you saying that you don't keep records?"

"Sir? Colonel Chen's…"

"Never mind," Jack said dangerously and turned toward Chen. "Well, Colonel?"

"I don't have them," the Colonel said softly with a dejected tone.

Jack nodded and turned to see the confused Milos. "Major? Would you get the MP, please?"

"MP, sir?"

"Yes. Tell them that I requested Colonel Chen to be arrested for ordering unauthorized flights, taking advantage of the USAF properties, and conducting hazardous compound smuggling."

Milos' eyes were round as big as a saucer. "S… s… smuggling?"

"Too bad you didn't keep your own record. I'm afraid you will also have to be held and investigated as an accomplice."

*************************

Jack had requested a hush-hush with the MP commanding officer. He mentioned that he'd be the one taking the report directly to HQ, and the MP obeyed.

When dawn broke, he was on his way back home to the US.

Full of fear and helplessness.

Milos did not even hesitate to tell him where those chemicals were transported.

Colorado Spring.

Maybourne. Chemical bombs. Colorado Spring.

//The Stargate Project//, Jack sighed. //It's all come down to the Stargate Project//.

He bit his lip. He did not have much time.

*************************

The chauffeur was waiting impatiently at the airport. He fumbled for his gun, stored safely under his seat.

He could not afford to fail.

Finally, his prey was inside his car, greeted him half-heartedly, refusing to release his duffle bag, it sat next to him on the seat.

The chauffeur watched the man dozed off, waiting for the right moment, and finally reached the rendez-vous point.

According to his instructions, he only needed to shoot and then run away. Somebody would take care of the body and the car. No trace would be left.

//It's so easy//, he thought. He turned the car into a deserted lot. Nobody was around. He slowed down to a controllable speed, and carefully took out his gun.

//One to his head//, he thought again. //Then the face will be unrecognisable//. He smiled. //Piece of cake//.

A red light shone.

He braked, turned, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Only something was wrong.

He did not have the time to figure out what it was, because his soul already left his body.

Jack took a quick look around, making sure that no one was around.

He slowly looked over the driver. A large bullet hole decorated his forehead, disfiguring the rest of the face. He shook his head.

//What? Do they think I'm stupid?//. Jack slowly put his gun back inside his jacket, and then efficiently removed the man into the back seat.

He realized now that the true danger was here.

He didn't have anybody to trust.

Here. In Washington DC.

He quickly took his duffle bag, and got out of the car. Disappearing into the black of the night.

*************************

Shane stared silently at his computer. Waiting.

He knew that it was useless, but still… He couldn't stand not knowing.

Not after his father…

He shook his head, biting the incoming tears, and glanced toward his twin. Charlie was already snoring.

If only he was as secure as Charlie. His twin had assured him that nothing was going to happen to Daniel. He had already mentioned that he'd be gone for a month.

Nothing serious was going to happen.

But still… No news.

And Major Carter did not visit either.

It was not about their safety. General Hammond's nice men had guarded them well. Those mysterious men that wanted to get Brad would surely never be able to pass the fortress they lived in.

But something had happened. He could feel it.

Daniel was not here, and nobody knew where he was.

Shane gulped his milk and stared back at his computer.

He couldn't go to school, he was scared, and restless. The Internet seemed to be the only entertainment he could rely on.

He had hacked the Net Nanny, and managed to see the porn sites. But those sites did not entertain him at all.

He was worried. And he could not sleep.

And then something beeped.

Shane watched in amazement at his Messenger.

Who wanted to chat him at this hour? A member of his newsgroup?

Impatient, he clicked on the notification icon.

"Shane, Charlie, whoever. Please help me. Send a signal that you got this. Love. Dad."

Dad.

DAD?

*DADDY*?

*JACK O'NEILL*?

Trembling and almost choking, Shane typed back. 'How do I know that you're my Dad?'

The whole minute was like a lifetime for him, until the box blinked back.

'I made anatinus for Danny's first dinner, but Brad refused to eat it because it would make his quadriceps bigger and then it upset Paul's stomach.'

Shane shrieked, "Charlie!"

************************

Jack woke up when the cleaning people got in.

"Sir, you're not supposed to sleep in the library," one of them chided him.

Jack scratched his head and smiled apologetically, then quickly sat up in front of the computer.

A mail was up in his Inbox.

'Timothy Robbins. Galore. 9 PM. Hang in there, Dad. We're coming to get you. I love you so much. Brad.'

Jack glanced at his watch. 7 AM. 14 hours to go. He had to wait.

*************************

"Well? Did you get it?" Brad asked his younger brother impatiently. The older boy had been a nervous wreck all night. He'd even cried uncontrollably when Shane brought the news. His Dad was here. Alive. It was too much for him at the moment.

"We come up with something. Will you relax?" Charlie pushed his glasses back in place and typed on his keyboard some more.

"Are you sure it's going to be valid and everything? Even if we don't pay?"

Shane tsked his oldest brother,"Do you honestly doubt me and Charlie's expertise in this? God. Such confidence."

"For crying out loud," Brad imitated his father. "You both are geeks. As far as I knew, geeks don't know anything. Not even their own dicks."

"Bleh," Shane snorted. "We'll see."

"Got it!" Charlie jumped on his seat excitedly.

"Did you really?" Brad quickly went to him.

"Pick them up at Nuvo Travel Agent, 10 am. Four executive class for tomorrow's first flight."

Brad stared uncomprehendingly. "Wait a minute. *Four*?"

"Four," Charlie nodded proudly.

"I only asked for *one*!"

"Do you honestly think that you're going to see Dad by yourself? Uh uh. We're coming!"

"NO WAY! Wait! Does this mean… Paulie…"

"Yup. We can't leave him alone here, can we?"

"Charlie!"

"Aw, relax. We geeks *know* what we're doing. We'll get you free tickets!"

*************************

Jack could not believe how tired he was when finally reached Galore. He had no money left to buy any food, and he craved sleep desperately. He had tried to change his clothes, but the only shirt he had was dirty. That was why he was still using his fatigue pants and jacket to fend off the cold. He knew he attracted attention, but he had no choice.

He hesitated, remembering the last time he was here, and slowly walked to the alley to find the back door.

He only tapped once, when the door opened abruptly and Tim's worried face appeared.

"General!"

Jack could not believe how relieved he was to see Brad's punk boyfriend.

"Oh God! We were so worried about you!" Tim did not wait to hear his reply. He quickly took in Jack's appearance, and realized that the man was almost at the end of the rope.

"Hang on, Sir. I'll get you home! Let me get my car keys, first, okay?"

Jack could only nod.

Tim was back with anxiety and excitement all over his face. He dragged Jack to his car, aware that the man was ready to collapse with exhaustion anytime.

"Here you go, Sir," Tim said softly once he put on Jack's safety belt.

"Where are we going?"

"My place, Sir. Brad will be here tomorrow morning."

Brad?

Jack knew that he should be worried. Brad wasn't supposed to be here. Too dangerous.

But he could not wait to see his son.

He took a very satisfying sleep that night, and woke up around 8. To his amazement, Tim was already up. He had prepared breakfast.

"What time does Brad's plane land?" Jack asked unceremoniously and gulped his coffee.

"Around noon. I'll pick him up, General. Are you alright?"

Jack felt himself smiling in return. He nodded, "Well, surprisingly, I am. Thanks to you."

Tim blushed and looked very pleased. "I'm glad. What are you going to do now, Sir? Go to Pentagon?"

Jack's face darkened. "'fraid not. Those goons were trying to kill me."

Tim's eyes widened, "Sir? Oh my God. What are you going to do?"

"There're some people I must meet this morning. Park my son here, and don't let him wander around the city. I'll be back as soon as possible. Got that?"

"Aye, aye," Tim smiled. But his face turned concerned again. "Do you… Do you need some help, Sir? Honestly, we've been really worried about you."

"Nah," Jack grinned and patted his son's boyfriend affectionately. "It's okay. I can take care of myself."

Tim's face looked dubious, "Will you call at 12? Brad will be worried sick."

Jack stared at the young man silently, and finally nodded. He clasped his shoulder, a gesture that surprised and delighted Tim.

"You're alright, Tim," Jack said. "You're an okay guy."

**************************

Harry Anderson was the first guy he met. The man that Smythe recommended had waited for him inside a Chinese restaurant at 9, and seemed genuinely pleased to meet him.

"I'm afraid you don't have a real friend, yet, General," Anderson said. "Don't resurface too soon."

"Smythe said you could help me."

"We can try clearing your name and exposing General Maybourne. But it's not exactly a good idea to open up this information to the public. You must know that this is a real scandal, and if we don't do it carefully, you'll be in mortal danger."

"I know. Just do something, will you? Tell your Director, press the President, or whatever? I need to be in Colorado Spring and contact Hammond. Those bombs can't wait."

"You can't go joining up Hammond there. He's involved in a secret project…"

"I *know* all about his secret project. In fact the whole Iraq thing had something to do with it."

"…and his security is tight. You can't just pop out there and expect nothing will happen to you," Anderson continued as if Jack hadn't said anything.

"Are you saying Hammond isn't in control of the situation out there?"

"No. As far as I know, his faction is losing ground. HQ had secured the base and ensured that not even an ant can penetrate. Unless you're officially appointed by the Air Force to join the project, you won't get anywhere."

"What do you say if I take this information to the press?"

Anderson looked thoughtful. "Not wise," he finally said. "For now."

"I will if you won't help."

"It's up to you, then, General. CIA considers this matter finish. The rest is Air Force jurisdiction."

Jack gritted his teeth, "Wonderful. Fine. Let's see tomorrow morning's paper, then."

Anderson nodded, "If you need assistance…"

"Just do what you promise to do. Tell the President and clear up my name."

"I will. In the meantime, I can give you a suggestion."

"What is it?"

"The new Chief of Air Force Command, General Harlan Epstein."

"Yes?"

"He can install you in Hammond's project. He has full authority. All you have to do is finding his weakness and exploit it."

"What's his weakness?"

Anderson grinned, "He's gay."

Jack whistled.

"Well," Anderson laughed. "Good luck, General. Send my regards to the people of Colorado Springs, then. I know we can count on you to help them out."

***************************

"Hello," Brad greeted Lieutenant Darby in a singsong voice.

The lieutenant blushed furiously. There wasn't any doubt that the General's oldest son flustered him. The man thought that the boy was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but he also knew that noticing a boy's beauty was something that was categorized as a No-No in his line of work.

And to make things worse difficult, Brad O'Neill was *aware* of him *noticing*.

"Are you going somewhere?" Darby quickly regained his composure. Brad was carrying Paul and a rather large duffle bag.

"Paulie needs to go to the doctor. He's rather sick, aren't you Paul?"

The toddler's eyes were wide, a picture of pure innocent. He nodded shyly, and then giggled softly.

From what Darby could see, the three year old did not look sick at all. But then again, what did he know about babies and little kids.

"Let me take you, then. Sergeant Donaldson can watch over your other brothers."

"Swell," Brad smiled beautifully. "Let's go then."

"Yea," Paul grinned as widely. "Swell."

*************************

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of one of the largest children's clinic in Colorado Spring.

"Would you wait for us here?" Brad said and blinked his long eyelashes repeatedly. He knew that nobody could resist him when he did that.

Darby thought that sitting inside the waiting room with a boy as flirtatious as Brad would probably not be a good idea. It would attract attention, especially since he was in his full regalia as an Air Force Lieutenant. He nodded and turned on his car's radio.

Brad smiled, "Great. See you."

"Yeah," Paul said in echo. "See you."

The brothers entered the clinic, and then got out from the back door, and got in into a waiting taxicab.

***********************

"I'm going to take Dobey for a walk," Charlie said to Sergeant Donaldson. "Will you stay and watch for Shane?"

"Yes," Donaldson said without paying any attention. He only glanced a little to one of the O'Neill twin, taking in his familiar checked shirt and brown jacket. "Don't be too long."

"I won't."

It's about a half hour later the boy came back. No dog with him.

"Where's Dobey?"

"Out there, taking a snooze as usual," the boy shrugged and scratched his chest. "Let me get my bag."

"Sure."

"Has Shane come down, yet?"

"No."

"Well, the lazy bones. Will you wake him up at ten? He said he wanted to catch a long sleep, but I don't want him to miss meeting me at the library."

Donaldson looked at his watch. 9 AM. "Okay," he agreed nonchalantly.

"Great," the boy smiled. "See you."

He didn't pay attention when the young boy ran out, took his bike, pedalled it as fast as he could.

He didn't know that ten minutes later, the young boy met his twin, dressed similarly like him, with his dog, waiting impatiently inside a taxicab.

"Did he recognize you?" Charlie asked.

"Nope. He thought I was you. Let's go."

When twenty minutes later Darby rushed into the house in a panic, Donaldson quickly knocked Shane O'Neill's door and found the room empty. The two men finally knew that they had been well and truly had.

********************

It was lunchtime when Jack finally met Dirk Plummer, top man of the Reuters in USA office. He was impatient, because he couldn't afford being seen by anybody. And he wanted to meet his son badly.

"Ashcroft sent some of the pictures to me," Plummer said breathlessly. "My God, General. We're sitting on a treasure! This kind of news could be a real bomb! Imagine, the US government has denied being involved in Saddam's assassination and turned out that they were the primary player after all."

"I don't want you to disclose *everything* yet," Jack said warily.

"Well, why don't we do it slowly? I'm an American. Of course I don't want to embarrass my countrymen that much."

"Just mentioned the failure of the team for now," Jack said.

"I got a better deal: US mercenaries, rebelling from the Air Force. How about that for a start? We can work gradually until we disclose everything. You have plenty of time to finish whatever you must finish"

"Mercenaries?"

"Well, according to some source of mine, General Maybourne acquired an incredible amount of money without Air Force notification."

Jack looked thoughtful, "I suppose you know where the source come from."

"We can arrange that. What about Housni Al Thaleb? The new Iraqi president? It was partly true, though. There were money traffics between the two. It's not like the man is innocent."

"Fine. Suits what you like. Tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning," Plummer nodded enthusiastically. "What can I do more for you?"

"Chief of Staff of the Air Force, General Epstein. Do you know where he usually hangs out?"

**************************

Jack was practically running into the building. He took two, three steps at once and banged Tim's door desperately.

Tim opened it with smile all over his face.

Jack brushed him aside, and then finally came face to face with his loved ones.

"DAD!"

"Oh," he whispered, his legs suddenly weakened. "Oh."

His knees connected the floor with a thud, but he didn't feel anything, because at that moment, four of the most beautiful boys in his world had rushed and clutched him like their life was depending on him.

Jack cried.

**************************

"What are you going to do, Dad?" Brad sniffed. He desperately wanted to lay his head on his father's chest, but Paul and the twins had already beat him to it.

"Obviously I have to rescue Danny at Colorado, right?" Jack bit his lip. Good Lord, he thought. Despite vague explanations from his sons, he could put two and two together. He couldn't believe that Daniel was *in*, and acquired his *secret* file. God. What would Maybourne do to him? His anxiety tripled even more.

"Would General Hammond help you?"

"It's not so easy, Brad," Jack sighed. "I have to force the Chief of Staff for the Air Force to appoint me there."

"We don't have much time," Brad whined.

"I know," Jack said. "That's why I have to confront him tonight. At the Purple Cat."

Brad and Tim's jaw dropped. "Purple Cat?" Tim choked.

Jack rolled his eyes, "Apparently, the General had a secret hobby."

"You can't go there alone!" Tim said.

"Do I have a choice? Now, shoo… Come on boys. Daddy has some workto do."

The little boys reluctantly released him, and stared at his father's retreating back.

"Brad?" Charlie turned to his oldest brother. "We've got to help him. He can't do this alone."

Brad bit his lip, "You're right. Let's wait until he's gone, okay? Then help me with something. Are you in this as well, Tim?"

"I'm with you to hell and back, Brad."

"Yuck," Shane snorted. "Stop kissing."

Ten minutes after Jack left them, Brad came out from Tim's room.

The four pair of eyes locked at him with wonder and amazement.

"Wow," the twins whispered.

"My God, you're *beautiful*!" Tim took a deep breath and tried hard to calm his heartbeat.

Paulie nodded enthusiastically, "Pruwty." Suddenly he jumped and clutched Brad's naked leg.

"Hey Paul! You'll ruin my stocking."

"Mommy," Paul smiled and hid his face behind Brad's leg. "My mommy is pretty."

"Oh, for God's sake," Brad rolled his eyes.

****************************

The Purple Cat was the kind of a drag club that gave Jack a fright. It was not exactly a clean, classy kind of thing.

The cross-dressers were vulgar, the customers were definitely into weird kink, and everybody seemed to be there looking for sex.

Jack had to fend off so many people; he was wondering why he had thought that coming to this place alone was a good idea.

But then again, where else he could blackmail Chief Epstein into helping him.

His camera was ready. Plummer had mentioned that one photo was enough. He could arrange the other patrons to voluntarily be a witness that Epstein was a regular there. Jack swallowed his distaste. Blackmail was not his style, but he had no other choice.

He took his seat in the corner and glared with all his might at anyone who came near him. It was pretty effective, to his relief.

Finally, the one he was waiting arrived.

Epstein without his uniform looked suddenly as disgusting as some dirty sugar daddy or pimp. He was wearing a red flamboyant shirt that was see-through, very unattractive on his fat body. He leered like a cheap prostitute, which made Jack wonder how someone could be so different in his other life.

Epstein flirted with everyone. He squeezed some drag queens' butts, gave out fiery lip locks with some young, pretty men, and, to Jack's disgust, humped them too.

It dawned on him that in this surrounding, the General had completely released his personal inhibitions.

He waited until the General retreated into "his" usual corner with a hand full of pretty boys.

Once the General sat, Jack slowly rose from his seat, and silently approached the huddling group. He stood in the darkness, close enough to them, and waited a moment. When Epstein swallowed some boys tongue deep inside his mouth, Jack raised his camera.

CLICK.

The Chief of Air Force was practically shrieking and jumping from his seat.

"Who the hell…!"

Jack approached him, aware that eyes turned to him.

"Hello, General Epstein."

The look on the Chief's face was fascinating. It was a mixture of pure terror, rage, embarrassment, and hateful recognition.

"Jack O'Neill."

"Do you mind to have a little talk with me, Sir?"

Epstein stared at him for a long time, as if he were watching a ghost. Jack saw him starting to hyperventilate.

"General? Please. Don't get a heart attack now."

Jack dismissed the pretty boys around Epstein. They hurriedly left them alone.

Epstein sweated profusely, "What are you doing here, O'Neill?"

"Looking for you. Aren't you going to give me a homecoming?"

"You're supposed to be dead!" Epstein was practically spit on him.

"Really? Do you want me to be dead?"

Epstein swallowed, then, sweating profusely, his eyes desperately looked around.

"Stop it, General. Nobody is going to help you," Jack warned.

"Are you *alone*, O'Neill?"

It took a moment too late for Jack to answer.

Epstein suddenly jumped from his seat and shouted to the crowd, "BOUNCER! HELP!"

Jack gritted his teeth.

A large man loomed behind them. "Sir? Do you have any trouble?"

A surge of hope rushed into Epstein's face. Jack quickly turned to see who was standing behind him.

Three men. Big men. All were looking at him with fierce gaze.

"You're alone, O'Neill," Epstein said in a relief. "Well, of course. You're *dead* after all." He still trembled, but suddenly knowing that he still had the upper hand. After all, he was a regular here.

"I'm not," Jack said nonchalantly, though he was cursing himself inward.

"Never mind. No one would question a dead man's disappearance," Epstein said in a low voice. He was trying to sound smug but his voice was still shaky. "Gentlemen, I believe this man is trying to blackmail me."

//Damn//, Jack cursed. "No, I'm not," Jack smiled to the three huge men. "We have some private business to finish. You see, he's suppose to be at home now, instead of cheating on me like this."

Epstein's eyes bulged out, and Jack saw the three men were taken aback and glanced at each other.

"Absolutely not!" Epstein screamed. "Get him out!"

"Don't interfere, please," Jack said calmly. "I can ask some widely known patrons to close this place down. It's not a good idea to get involved with private affairs."

The three men were now visibly hesitating. They looked wary, but a hint of amusement was seen in their eyes.

Suddenly, the room broke into a loud series of catcalls.

The tableau forgotten, all of the men huddling in the corner turned to see what happened.

And there it went.

Jack felt like he was ready to faint.

"Harlan!" A shrieking voice was heard. "How dare you cheating on me?"

A pair of the most gorgeous legs, only slightly covered with a super mini, tight leather skirt brought the bearer of the voice into the table.

The three huge men stood silently. Confused. And drooled at the same time.

The "girl" was incredibly beautiful.

"She" was wearing leather clothes that didn't conceal much of his figure and perky ass. The wig was white blonde and did wonderfully to reveal the most beautiful young face everyone had ever seen.

"She" leaned toward Epstein and kissed him soundly, before secretly winking to Jack, who at that time was now wondering if his chest was going explode anytime now.  
Brad.

"Now," Brad turned to the three goons who were watching him with great interest. "Hush. Hush. This is private, okay?"

The men leered at him and smiled. They started to retreat and left them alone.

"Wait!" Epstein said in terror. "I don't know who this is! Don't leave!"

Brad slapped Epstein's cheek. "Now, don't be a bastard! I tolerate you enough when you play around in this joint! I should kill you for pretending not to recognize me! It's an old joke! Anyone can see that!"

Indeed, the other patrons laughed at them, and finally started to mind their own business.

Epstein gulped and stared at Brad, then to Jack. "You trapped me," he whispered. "Goddammit."

"You can have us pictured together," Brad grinned cheekily toward his father and sat himself on Epstein's lap.

Jack was now burning like hell. His fingers were squeezing the table tightly. He just couldn't handle seeing his son sitting on that dirty old man lap.

And what the hell was Brad doing in here?

"Well?" Brad caught on his father's rage and smiled nervously. "Shall we continue?"

"I deal with you later," Jack said to Brad with eyes throwing daggers, then turned to Epstein with raging hatred. He really wanted to throttle his neck, especially when he saw Brad's lipstick mark on the Chief's lips. "Well, Chief. How about you relieve Maybourne and hand over command of the Stargate Project to me?"

*********************************

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you afraid, yet?" Daniel asked again. The truth was, the question was for himself, since it was he who slowly felt the growing, desperate fear.

Sha're.

At first, she ignored him. Her black fury was still visible each time Daniel pleaded his need to contact his colleagues as well as warn the Abydonians about the danger he had predicted. However, those repressed furies quickly turned into disregard, which, a few days later, turned into stony silence.

Still weak and half-crippled from his grievous wound, Daniel had exploded into rage borne of his impatience; however, soon enough, he became more frightened than anxious.

Something bad had happened, particularly to Sha're. Something that had, alarmingly fast, changed her.

Lately, she just popped in with her closed-off face, deliberately exercising a deaf-mute act. She followed the usual, eerie routine; tending Daniel's wound, feeding and washing him, then climbing into his bed to hold him all night.

She became a constant walking stupor, looking always on the verge of dropping off, only to jerk back again as if somebody had slapped her into wakefulness.

There was something *unbalanced* about her. As if some kind of metamorphosis was slowly taking place, invisible to the naked eye.

It was horrifying.

One time, when she looked unusually sober, Daniel desperately explained about how their life was about to end.

Sha're screamed.

It was so piercing and so heartbroken, that for a moment Daniel thought that he was already too late.

"Did they do it already?" Daniel asked frantically, feeling suffocated by the vivid image that the chemical Armageddon had finally arrived and he was now truly stuck in his own grave. "Sha're! Did they?"

"Goa'uld," Sha're sobbed when she finally calmed down. The forgotten fury was burning brightly in her eyes. "Damn, Goa'uld!"

Daniel stared at her and saw the boiling anger. Anger that had been repressed for a long, long time, and was finally erupting violently like a volcano.

Sha're slapped her beautiful abdomen. "Don't ask again, Daniel Jackson. Don't ask again."

Daniel saw her slapping her abdomen repeatedly and wondered whether her subconscience was actually trying to tell him something.

"What are you saying, Sha're?"

She smiled so suddenly. "We're safe. We're safe here."

Then, she turned back into her dreamy stance again, as if moving into another plane, and forming a perfect, docile denial.

Daniel never understood what had happened. However, over the growing fear and wariness brought on by this mystery, he felt that somehow she had saved him.

Through the confusing mood swings, she was demonstrating - the cold, repressed fury, yet fierce protectiveness over his well-being, all told him one thing - Sha're's maternal instinct had taken over and she was desperately trying to save anything that was worth saving while she could.

Saving someone from the cruel end of the world that had probably already happening out there.

Him.

"Your people will be gone soon. Can't you understand that?" Daniel asked weakly. He had to try. He knew that it could be fruitless, but still, he knew that there was some hope. She was not going insane, he assured himself. She just showed classic symptoms of denial that resulted from lifelong fears and the inability to face reality.

Just like tonight.

Feeling drowsy and lethargic, with Sha're remaining unmoving behind him, Daniel finally asked the question he had wanted to ask for a while.

"Is this place our grave, Sha're?" No answer.

"In my place, they put headstones over our graves. Do you know what a headstone is? I suppose not. It's a slab of stone where you put the name of the deceased, and some words that could best describe them when they still alive. Yes, that's right, it's the same thing like the writing in your death chambers… We called them

'Pyramids' back home. But we also do it for the common people. Not only for the Kings and Priests."

Daniel swallowed and continued his ramble, "Are we in a death chamber, Sha're?"

Still no answer.

"I wonder what my headstone would say," Daniel whispered. "I have no parents to remember my youth or to best describe my whole life. My friends only caught a small glimpse of me. It would be unfair to put some words there only based on the last few years of my life."

Daniel chuckled a little, "'Here's rest the cute anthropologist', Edwina would say that. Or 'Raider of the Lost World' my archaeology colleague would say. Oh, I do wonder what they would say now if they knew how far I have gone."

Then, the sorrow that had been kept at bay flooded his soul. Daniel gasped, "Maybe Paulie would contribute something like 'The Best Mommy'. Or… or… Brad would say 'The Dreamboat Bartender'."

He went silent for a long time after that, then whispered, "My sons. I miss my beautiful sons."

It was probably Daniel's imagination, but it felt like there was a slight intake of breath from the wooden, robot-like beauty, whose breasts were warming Daniel's back.

"Sons?" A small, soft noise was finally heard.

Daniel felt his whole body stiffened. //She talks!// It was the first reaction she had made since her last outburst.

"Yes," Daniel said as nonchalantly as possible. His heart thundered loudly. "My children."

The warmth behind his body dissipated. He could feel Sha're's cautious movement and the distance she had put between them.

"Are you a father?"

Daniel swallowed, "Yes." Slowly, he turned his head and watched Sha're standing near the bed, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

"I don't want to die here," Daniel said, feeling both his palms wet and cold. "My children won't be able to pick a headstone for me and will have nothing to remember me by."

Sha're stared at him mutely, then suddenly turned and walked toward the door.

"Sha're," Daniel called. She stopped.

"Is it already too late to warn your father?"

She did not answer.

*************************

Surreal.

That was what Sam felt when she finally saw the sun with her naked eyes.

Sand. Miles and miles of sand. Dry ancient giant valleys. Hollow caves. A vast sea of emptiness. And they stood there, atop a tiny cubicle over a hill of rocks, the entry into the underground cave where she had spent days.

Sam turned to look at Teal'c, a strange creature who was obviously accustomed to this nothingness.

"Are you some kind of a pre-historic man?" Sam mumbled to herself.

She could not help imagining that. There was something grand and ancient about this man. He stood there, detached and peaceful, as if his mere existence was a force of nature.

It was also clear that under the bright light sun, Teal'c was a creature that was well-favored. Sam blushed slightly when she caught herself examining the man's body.

What she had found was truly enjoyable.

The man was huge, a giant with strong arms, massive legs, and muscular body. All harmoniously synchronized to make him look absolutely at ease with his own body.

But what attracted Sam's attention the most was his perfect hairless head and attractive face. Well formed, covered with unblemished dark skin, decorated with an exotic arrangement of dark eyes, straight nose and full lips that lent him an air of beauty and vulnerability.

Teal'c walked across the platform, ignoring her mumbling, and jumped down a short drop. He turned to Sam, signaling her to follow him.

She jumped down with shaking legs, and quickly moved along the narrow path Teal'c was heading. The path was rough, dipped into sharp hollows in several places, with a steep rock wall on one side, and a cliff on the other.

On several occasions, when Sam had to stop to take a little breath and control her weak legs, Teal'c turned back and helped her gently. Sam had looked up once, and met his soft, encouraging eyes. She remembered her body trembling a little after that, which to her surprise, wasn't borne of fatigue.

Finally, they reached around a sharp bend in the path. There was a large hollow cave in the rock wall and Teal'c motioned her to get into it.

The cave was cool, dark, and surprisingly large. In fact, the high ceiling expanded from the narrow opening to a chamber 50 yards high.

"I wonder where are you taking me?" Sam asked, not really expecting any answer. "Your own kingdom?"

She watched the large form in front of her and her face broke into a sad smile, "Don't tell me. You're Adam and I'm Eve. And we're suppose to mate and raise children together."

Teal'c walked briskly past the wide floor and in moments reaching the darkest part of the cave, completely untouched by the sunlight coming from the entryway.

She blinked. "Teal'c?"

Sam quickly followed him and found herself trapped in darkness.

//This is so not funny//, she thought frantically when the familiar feeling of suffocation attacked her again.

"Teal'c?"

"Sam!"

Sam took a deep breath of relief. The voice was not too far from where she stood. "Where are you, Teal'c?"

Teal'c mumbled something.

"Okay, okay," Sam rolled her eyes. "Jump down. Turn left. Going right. Whatever."

She stood there, waiting for Teal'c to come back and pick her up. Surely the man couldn't expect Sam to understand whatever he was saying, could he?

Despite herself, she truly found this amusing. Two lonely creatures, completely at a loss with each other. However, she never doubted that Teal'c would come to get her. There was an instant trust between the two of them that she could not describe.

Since their first introduction to each other, there wasn't anything else she had felt for the man except safety. She had accepted this with surprise, then with deep amusement. She couldn't help feeling she had fallen into a surreal nostalgic child-like dream, where she was Jane who found her Tarzan in the middle of nowhere.

"Teal'c," she called him again. "I truly don't have any idea where you are at the moment. So if you want me to follow you, please show yourself."

She chuckled softly, wondering whether Teal'c would roll his eyes like she did before. The big man must have heard her rambling nonsense and thought that it was amusing.

She heard heavy footsteps, then suddenly his handsome face appeared from the darkness.

"Where have you been?" Sam said with relief. Unaware that she had given him one of her warmest smile, she walked eagerly toward Teal'c.

"Don't disappear like that again, huh?" Sam said softly to him.

The man grunted, then, to Sam's surprise, took her wrist and trapped her hand inside his big paw.

Warm.

Soft.

Protective.

//Safe//.

She knew that it was best to ignore whatever feeling she had felt for the moment. She was trapped in the middle of nowhere. She was probably going to die soon. She was desperate and lonely. It was a predictable situation.

//His hand feels nice to me//.

Sam smiled.

They walked hand-in-hand in the darkness. It was actually not as dark as Sam had first thought. Once her eyes adjusted, she could see Teal'c's bulky form in front of her, leading her like a blind person.

They turned into a narrow path with a lower ceiling. A tunnel. Now Sam realized that the darkness had lifted gradually. The farther they walked inside, the lighter the way was. Until finally, she could see some light at the end of the tunnel.

//Another opening?//

Yet, she was shocked to find that, instead of an opening as impressive as the one they had been in before, they were standing in front of a dead end.

To be precise, a small, closed off chamber with smooth walls on all sides.

"What?" Sam stopped herself. The light. The chamber was bright with light.

Teal'c tugged her hand, and Sam found herself looking up. Up into the blinding brightness above. It turned out that the rock wall in front of them appeared to be a part of the foundation to another platform.

She turned to see Teal'c smile with assurance to her.

Caught again in those soft eyes and feeling herself blushing, she meekly let him lead her toward the corner of the wall. There were steps carved into the wall, and

Teal'c said something to her before he started to climb it.

Excited for some unknown reason, Sam eagerly followed.

When she finally reached the platform, she found it brilliant with light, and much more expanded and impressive than the one near the entry.

But what made her breath stop was not the sheer grandness and gigantic size of the underground cave. It was another thing that stood quietly, and solemnly, like an ancient icon.

A Star Gate.

Sam found herself kneeling.

"Oh," she gasped, finally realizing that the last of her breath had abandoned her.

Then, she looked up and found Teal'c staring at her puzzlingly.

She laughed. The sound was genuinely joyful, she found Teal'c smiled back at her warmly.

"Abydos?" Sam pointed at the Gate. //Home, goddammit//, she thought. //I can go home//.

The gentle smile abruptly departed.

Unaware of his sudden chilliness, Sam stood up and eagerly ran toward the Gate.

Then halted when she realized something awful.

"The dial!" Sam shouted. "Where the hell is the dial?"

**************************

To say that the world had gone into a 'shebang' uproar was an understatement. The giant media consortiums picked up the Reuters' 'campaign', and by morning, it was an international headline.

Being true to their promise, Reuters did not disclose everything; only an abbreviated accounting of General Maybourne's involvement in the Iraqi president's assassination, his failure to demolish the chemical factory, and some speculation about the fate of the chemical bombs.

By noon, the President announced the sudden resignation of the Air Force Chief, Harlan Epstein; officially fired General Maybourne; made another complete reshuffle of the Air Force command chain; and secretly ordered a shut down of all activities at Reykjavik Base.

Violent demonstrations broke out in every corner of the earth. Every single newspaper, radio and television launched accusations, analytic discussions, and even gossip about it.

Several Arabian countries pulled out their diplomats and conducted oil strikes and boycotts, followed by widespread hate movements against the US in their respective countries. Worldwide environmentalists organized protests about the chemical bombs and riots broke from them.

By dinner, there were almost a thousand scenarios being launched by the media, though most of them seemed to agree that 'mercenaries' were just scapegoats for US government involvement. Almost all citizens of the US were now convinced that the chemical bomb threats were more real than ever and probably closer to home than they expected. Despite the fact that the biggest scandal was the Air Force cover-up of an operation that had proven to be a failure, people were more distracted by the sole villain. Some thought that Maybourne was a modern-day Emperor Ming who wanted to destroy the world, so they burned his effigy.

Later on, Jack admitted that he was quite amazed about how accurate some of those analyses and speculations were, despite the minimal information. However, he had no time to dwell on that, because by the time the first newspaper of the day hit the stands, he had already flown to Colorado with his sons in tow.

Jack could not hide his pleasure when it was a familiar face that greeted him at Colorado Springs.

"Ferretti." He shook his old buddy's hand warmly. "Can't tell you how relieved I am to see your face."

"The feeling is mutual, General," Major Ferretti said solemnly though not concealing his delight. "You manage to rock the world spectacularly. As expected."

"Huh! Rumors fly fast, eh? The newspapers didn't say anything about me. So, what's your status now?"

"I'm officially second in command of the SGC, since the top officials were out of communication. SG-3 to 11 were formally disbanded following further investigations."

Jack led his sons toward the waiting car, then whispered softly to him, "Still no signs from Hammond?"

"Somehow he's been completely isolated inside the Mountain. Honestly, we don't even know about his fate," Ferretti said. "We have taken over Cheyenne Mountain only to the 25th level. The lower floors are completely sealed from the inside."

"Damn," Jack sighed. "That means also no word regarding Maybourne and the SG-1 team's fates."

"And SG-9, sir."

"SG-9?"

"That's correct," Ferretti said. "You hold command now, Sir. We're ready to attack any time."

Jack bit his lip and nodded. "Any other information?"

"Actually, yes," Ferretti's face turned dark. "About the shipment from Reykjavik, Sir? Well, it turned out that those were the *least* problem we have regarding unknown goods entering the Mountain."

Jack stared warily. If the chemical bombs were not the main problem, then what was? He wondered if he miscalculated anything else.

"What do you mean, Ferretti?"

"I just received some confirmation that, apparently, there were shipments from Project D-Ex. Lots of them. They all came as first class goods, bypassed all standard inspections and classified as Dangerous. All was directly approved and handled by the SGC 2IC, General Maybourne."

"Goddammit," Jack whispered.

"What is Project D-Ex, Sir?"

Jack gritted his teeth, "The popular term is Robotic Soldiers. Dammit. I thought they were still prototypes!"

"Robotic Soldiers?"

"Human size combat devices. Serve as tanks, missile launchers, anti-missile radar, compact storage and database units, sensory and mini bio-chemical lab devices, communication stations, multi-media systems; basically an all-around artificial intelligent for difficult operations and soldier-less situations."

"Jesus," Ferretti's jaw dropped. "Are you saying… 'Robocops'?"

*********************************

"You're not going to make our lives any easier, are you, Dad?" Brad said softly once he found his father in his bedroom.

Jack was sitting in front of his 'magic box', a trunk where he hid all of his black-op weapons. After what he and his family had experienced lately, there was no need to conceal it from Brad any longer. His son knew that those dangerous missions were still far from over.

Jack gave him a sad smile, "'Fraid not."

"Will you be okay?"

"I hope so. Will you?"

Brad tried to grin, yet his attempt to look light and confident failed miserably. "I can take care of myself."

Jack nodded solemnly, "I believe you now, my warrior son." He reached Brad and kissed his forehead gently. "I believe you."

"Just don't leave us, Dad. We can't afford another heartache like that."

*********************************

Unusually bright light woke Daniel the next day. He blinked repeatedly until his eyes adjusted to the flaming torches that were installed all over his chamber.

"Sha're?"

He sat up, wincing painfully. The shot had not just ripped open his chest, but had damaged some of his ribs as well.

He felt her hands helping him up. He found himself staring at a different version of Sha're.

She was very pale. Her eyes, usually blank and trapped forever in a dreamlike stance, were wide and dark with emotions.

//Funny//, Daniel thought. //I never notice that she had that catlike tilt on her strange brown-gold-gray eyes//. Those catlike eyes were now reflecting deep sadness, fear and helplessness.

It was an intense, complicated tangle of emotion. Daniel had never seen her looking like this.

"Your sons' mother. Your wife," Sha're said. "Is she at your home?"

"She's dead," Daniel answered, too groggy and confused to answer otherwise. Then, when the silence between them continued, Daniel stared at her questioningly.

"What happened, Sha're?" Daniel asked gently.

She stared quietly for another moment, until finally she stood and started untying the ties on her dress.

It was, Daniel thought later, one of the most exotic, but frightening moments in his life.

The two of them looked at each other across the short distance of the bed; he, lying immobile, she, stripping off the last layer of her clothes.

"Oh," Daniel could not help whispering when the golden skin was finally fully revealed in all of its glory, the brown nipples erect proudly atop the heavy, perfect breasts. "You're beautiful."

Sha're took one of his hands, and gently put it on her neck.

Maybe, if the surreality of the situation had not put him on edge, or had not the image of Jack O'Neill haunted his every waking and sleeping moment, Daniel would have given up to the intense rush of sexual arousal and taken the beautiful woman in front of him.

However, the most intense emotion he felt at the moment was fear.

He gulped.

Was he mistaken? //Her belly… It doesn't feel right//.

He lifted his hand from the warm skin, hovering it only a centimeter from her, and felt it.

//The air//, he thought. //Hot?//. He wasn't sure. But… There was something out of tune there. Something felt like a … *disconnection*.

"Do you feel it, too?" her quiet voice made him almost jump in surprise.

"I…" Daniel was speechless. //Do I feel *what*?//

Michael had once mentioned that he had very sensitive hands. Professionally trained to care for old, vulnerable bones and artifacts, his fingers could *feel* in the truest sense. Michael had told him that to take advantage of the massages he had gave, but Daniel never doubted for a moment that his fingers could read temperature changes more accurately than a thermometer.

And now, he definitely felt something.

He touched her neck again. //Is it…?//

Daniel suddenly felt dizzy and a little sick in his stomach. He turned up and caught Sha're's intense stare.

"You're not…," he gulped, "…just sick are you?"

Sha're gave him a soft, heart-breaking smile, "No."

"Then what…?"

Her eyes were very wide, although it would have been difficult to say if the expression in them was dismay, fear, anger, or wonder.

"I'm one of them. The enemy," Sha're said. "Always have been."

Cold reality hit him between the eyes like a blunt, heavy object. Daniel felt a sudden and amazingly strong urge to stand, hit her right in the face and run away. Far.

"You're a… Goa'uld?" He could hear the tremor in his voice.

"I wanted to escape," her voice was alarmingly small and childlike. "I tried. Really. I did try."

She shivered. Perhaps, it was just some physical reaction of being naked, or maybe a simple gesture to emphasize her defeat and helplessness, but it was a gesture that pierced Daniel's gentle heart.

Before he knew, he reached for her, and Sha're stumbled clumsily into his open arms.

"How?" Daniel whispered to the head burrowed in his aching chest. His hand gently rubbed the soft skin of her naked back, all sexual feelings completely forgotten.

"I was a Queen. A promise my father had to keep," Sha're said. "A bride to Apophis. Little did my people know that they had implanted it in me."

"You're Apophis' bride?"

Daniel could feel the smile in her voice. "Yes," she said. "When Apophis consorted with the enemy, I ran away. To home."

"Kasuf didn't know," Daniel sighed. It was more of a statement than a question.

"He was suspicious, though," Sha're answered. "Though I don't feel the effect of it yet, there were times that I…"

Daniel waited.

"…I *changed*."

"Into Goa'uld?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen before the time comes. But once in a while, the thing inside me wants to take over."

"Can your father take that it out you?"

The chuckle was slightly hysterical. "How?" she asked as if Daniel's suggestion was the silliest thing that she had ever heard.

Daniel bit his lip. Feeling simultaneously hopeful and afraid, he pushed her to sit straighter so that he could see her face.

"Release me," he said with absolution. "Take me to my friend Sam, then come with me to my home. We can try to take it out from you."

But his enthusiasm was muted by her shaking head.

"You don't understand, beautiful Daniel Jackson." Her hand touched his hair gently. "It's my life, now. I can't escape or I'll die."

Daniel was silent, lost for words.

"Comfort me, Daniel Jackson." Her eyes suddenly turned teary. "Please."

***********************

There was a small chamber not far from the Gate. It contained a small well, a sleeping cot, and rows of supply.

Teal'c pointed at the well, and gently nudged at Sam's dirty clothes.

"Do you want me to take a bath?" Sam asked. "Well, of course. I can practically smell myself rot in here."

She slumped tiredly on the sleeping cot, dazedly starting to unbutton her uniform. Adrenaline had finally deserted her. The overwhelming sense of disappointment she felt upon realizing the Gate had no dial was finally lifted when she took in her surroundings.

It was clear that Teal'c's provisions were brought from somewhere else. There were two piles of provisions, one appeared to be supplies, and the other one, neatly bundled up but unmistakably producing rotten smells appeared to be… garbage. In some sense, it made her feel relief.

//So he isn't exactly a creature from a completely different universe. He relies on supplies from somewhere else, and judging from how he wraps his garbage, he doesn't leave it here//.

Cooling air struck her sweaty skin. Sam blinked out from her reverie, realizing that she had taken off her top without thinking.

Half naked, she panicked and turned to Teal'c.

For one freaky moment, she caught the man staring, before he hastily turned his attention elsewhere. However, Sam could see the sudden dark blush on his face.

Despite herself, Sam felt an odd sense of disappointment when the man stood and moved out of the chamber, leaving her to her privacy.

Later, when she was bundled up inside her dirty uniform, feeling fresh and rejuvenated from the long soak, Teal'c came back. He didn't say anything, or even look at her. He just marched toward one of his 'bags' and took out some white clothing. He stood hesitantly, eyes studying the clothing for some time, then turned and finally looked at Sam.

He smiled shyly.

Sam thought her heart stop.

Teal'c said something to her. To Sam, there was something familiar in the tone he said it in. It was low, almost a whisper. And judging from the way he had said it, the man was talking to himself.

The body language also giving out hints, yet, she could not figure out what it was. All in all, the effect was not exactly unpleasant. For some odd reason, she blushed.

She nervously started to comb her wet hair with her fingers when she realized that Teal'c was kneeling and staring shyly at her.

To her surprise, it finally dawned on her that the big man was actually admiring her.

//Oh, I bet I know what he thinks//, she thought with a hint of embarrassment. //I must look much prettier with all the dirt and grime removed//.

The white clothing was handed to her. It was a tunic.

"Thank you," Sam said, feeling her cheeks warm again. //Jesus//, she thought. //I just met this man less than two days ago, and I've been blushing like a teenager//.

She clutched the tunic, not knowing what to do. Should she just change right away, or wait until Teal'c got out again?

Thankfully, the man had manners. He turned around, pretended to be busy with some other thing. However, when the man noticed that there were no sound coming from Sam, he turned back and found her still sitting, frozen, wide-eyed, with the tunic still clutched tightly in her hand.

At the same moment, Sam suddenly realized that she simply could not think. All she wanted to do was watch his eyes.

And… and… now…

His face. His face looked… puzzled, but… tentatively *hopeful*. It was fleeting. But it was there.

Hopeful.

"Sam?" Teal'c asked.

She felt a sudden and incredibly strong urge to run, away from him before he realized how that abnormally small, questioning voice had staggered her like a tornado.

She didn't understand what had happened. Did not understand it at all. Perhaps it was her loneliness, her helplessness, or her fatigue that had caused it. But at that moment, she felt an overwhelming fear accompanied by an exhilarating happiness.

"Teal'c." Sam could hear her voice shaking. Could hear her voice… *permitting*.

It was crazy. Of course it was crazy.

But when he extended his hand with a trance-like expression on his face, she could not stop it. She could not stop it from happening…

Nothing like this had ever happened before. Nothing. And she was stunned, not knowing how to react to it all.

The brush of his thumb on her palm was feather-like, but it was a gesture that brushed aside all the doubt in her mind, and brought open things she had kept viciously locked inside. Like a dam being burst.

Sam found herself moving like a sleepwalker, slowly peeling off her uniform until her naked skin kissed the cooling air. And as his hands touched her damp hair gently, and slowly circling her shoulders, she felt a strange, incredible feeling. A marvelous feeling of being woken up. Like a Sleeping Beauty after her one hundred years of sleep. Awake. Wide awake. And finally seeing things that she had never seen before.

***************************

Comfort.

If only he could give it like she had wanted it.

But Sha're didn't seem disturbed with it. Or disappointed. Only… *sad*.

"I don't excite you," she sighed and stared sadly at Daniel's naked body.

Daniel tried. Oh, how he tried. He knew that it was one of the most important things that Sha're needed at the moment. And he really, really wanted to give it to her.

But it seemed like his body had betrayed him.

Strangely, it wasn't shame or guilt he was feeling at the moment.

It was *relief*.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said honestly. He let Sha're rub his chest, care for his limp manhood, and press her warm body to his side intimately.

"Is it… me?"

"Sha're," Daniel whispered softly. "You are beautiful. And I know that it is *you*." //Not the monster inside your belly//, Daniel continued in his thought.

"Then… why?" She was pitiful in her sad acceptance. It roused strange responses in Daniel. Something that was eerily similar to what he felt with the O'Neill children.

Protectiveness. *Paternal* protectiveness.

What answer could he give to her?

"Sam?" she asked. "You think of her? Even after what she had done to you?"

Daniel smiled, "No. It wasn't Sam. And you have to accept that she did nothing to harm me."

Sha're studied him closely. Her strange eyes turned brown and gentle, they brought vivid images of Jack O'Neill to Daniel's mind.

"You have someone," Sha're said. "Is it your dead wife?"

"Sha're," Daniel chided her as he rubbed her gently. But the damage was done. Damn Sha're for reminding him about Jack again. "What does it matter to you?"

"I envy her," she sighed.

She slowly sat up, took her dress and started to put it on. She turned and saw the bewildered but hopeful face of Daniel Jackson.

"Come on," she said in a weak voice. "I can't take you to father, since he was consorting with your Tau'ri's enemy, Maybourne. But I can show you how to reach your friend, Sam."

Daniel jumped, though stopped when his healing chest protested violently. Wincing, he moved toward the pile of clothes Sha're was showing him. His fatigue. He started putting it on.

"The destruction," Daniel said hopefully. "It hasn't happened, yet?"

"It hasn't," Sha're shook her head. "But your Maybourne had already rounded up the tin warriors."

//Tin warriors?//

Daniel dared not think about what she had meant about tin warriors. He was aware that Maybourne was the kind of man that could do anything with his incredible contacts. If he could bring the chemical bombs from Iraq into US borders, he certainly could do other impossible things as well.

"Sha're?" Daniel said uncertainly. "Come with me."

"No," she said, and there was a coldness in her voice, a sudden familiar tone of her *other* self. "Of course not."

Daniel turned so abruptly, his face closed down and stony. //Of course not//, he thought. //Who am I kidding?//

She was beyond help.

But the sorrow was so piercing, he had to gasp softly, "I *need* to help you."

"Come, Daniel Jackson." She ignored him and led the way.

Together, they went through a dark maze of underground tunnels that were dirty and forgotten.

Limping from his chest pain and weakness, Daniel had to stop several times. Sha're finally slipped her left arm around him and assisted him in moving faster.

When they finally met Martouf, alone and impatient, Daniel realized that he had expected it. It was as if he had known all along that the man would be there, waiting for them.

On the contrary, Martouf looked at him with bewildered wonder all over his face. It was apparent that to him, Daniel's appearance was a real surprise.

"You're alive!" he exclaimed and turned toward Sha're. "My Princess, you're not lying."

"Of course not!" Sha're snapped irritatingly. "Now, take him to the exile. Quickly!"

"Exile?" Daniel started with alarm. "Wait a minute…"

"Don't worry, my friend," Martouf calmed him. "We still stuck with O'Neill's plan. The exile was part of it."

Daniel looked very doubtful.

"Trust me," Martouf said seriously.

Daniel sighed and gave up to Martouf's tug on his arm. He felt Sha're's comforting arm slip away and turned to her.

"You'll stay?"

"I'll wait here." She gave him a difficult, shaky smile. "I'll wait for you to save us here."

***************************

Jack reached the middle level by midnight. Back in his combat uniform, he was greeted by Major Ferretti and a squad of soldiers prepared for battle.

The only way to the lower floors was through a large, mechanical steel door, which at the moment was surrounded by a group of people trying to open it by force.

"We have tried laser cutting the steel since yesterday morning, Sir. It's amazing that we hadn't gotten through it till now."

"The purpose of this door is to part reality from fantasy. How long do we have to wait?" Jack stared at the red, unbroken, molten line that circled the frame. The end of the line was about half a meter away from its starting point, and seemingly nearing faster, judging from the size of the blasting fire of the laser cutter.

"In just a minute, Sir," the soldier with the laser answered.

Jack nodded to Ferretti, and the Major quickly gave way to a team of people who swiftly put C4 along the door.

"Ready," the soldier finished cutting out the door and moved away.

The blast only managed to open a hole that would fit two people.

"GO! GO! GO!" Ferretti shouted.

Jack entered as soon as everything was clear and found the corridor they were standing completely empty.

"Info about level 25 residents!" he shouted to his communication radio and took out his gun.

"All civilian and non-officer military personnel had been evacuated. That only left fifteen people in Sick Bay and Gate Room."

"You, you, you, and you! Follow me to the infirmary," Jack ordered several men. "Ferretti, secure the Gate Room and wait for me there."

Jack and several people ran toward another corridor. Just in time, he signaled a stop at a turn and saw two figures with weapons ready in front of the infirmary.

"Drop your weapon!" Jack shouted.

As if in slow motion, Jack saw one of the men turn to him, face clearly showing mad desperation and fear, lifting his weapon to fire.

Jack's shot caught him squarely in his shoulder, slamming him to the wall and leaving him helpless on the floor.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" the other one screamed frantically, discarding his weapon like garbage. His eyes were dilated with pure terror.

"Are you two all?" Jack asked when the man was secured.

"Yes!" The man, an Airman, looked as if ready to cry. "They're all in there," he gulped loudly. "I can't… I can't see them like that."

Jack finally saw that the white pallor of the young soldier was definitely unnatural. He'd been scared to hell, he was sure of it. Scared to what?

The door suddenly cracked open, and voices shouted simultaneously, both from the inside and the outside of the sickbay.

"Freeze!" A loud, high-pitched voice rang from the entrance. There was something strong and convincing about that tone, it froze everyone immediately.

"This area is highly contaminated!" the voice rang again. "Whoever you are, take a step back!"

Squinting his eyes, trying to find the source of the voice, Jack signaled his men to stop entering the chaotic infirmary. The room was dark but he could see rows of beds with people on them.

"This is General Jack O'Neill! New commander of the SGC! Whoever you are, just come out slowly and surrender yourself."

"Jack O'Neill?" the voice suddenly turned small and vulnerable. For a split second, Jack thought that it was Sam's voice, but then he realized that it wasn't. He had no doubt now, that it was a woman's voice.

"Who are you?"

"Doctor Janet Frasier, Chief Medical Officer! Glad to finally have you, General!"

A tentative, worried looking head appeared from the darkness, and in just a moment, the area was lit with bright light.

Jack found himself standing face to face with a small, attractive woman. "Did you say 'contaminated'?"

"Not exactly. Your men are safe to enter." Janet Frasier cocked her head, asking him to follow her. "Come. General Hammond is over here."

The infirmary was surprisingly full. There were loud moans from everywhere, and there was the distinctive smell of death. Several medical personnel who had cowered fearfully under the beds slowly got up and watched as the soldiers entered warily.

Jack glanced to the beds near him, and almost choked with surprise to see badly disfigured people.

//What the hell?//

He swallowed and purposely ignored the gory sight in front of him.

Together they entered a tiny cubicle, covered by curtains. Hammond was lying unmoving, //Thank God, his body was still intact!// with tubes and IV coming out from him.

"What happened to him?" Jack touched his friend's hand anxiously.

"Heroic, but stupid act," Janet snorted. Her brazenness caught Jack's attention. "Apparently he, himself, tried to sabotage General Maybourne's transported goods. He got contaminated. It's still touch and go for him, but I think he'll make it."

"Sabotage?"

Janet gave him a grim smile. "Look at around you. These are the men that handled Maybourne's chemical goods. Can you imagine what would happen if all of those dangerous things managed to be transported to Abydos?"

The sick men were… *disgusting*, he must admit. To his horror, his gaze fell into someone whose skin had cracked open in many places and oozing out yellow pus.

His body, he thought, looked like it was *melting*.

He shuddered.

"They won't stay alive for long," Janet told him without mercy. "One of the drums broke out and they were *bathed* in its contents. General Hammond was lucky that he only inhaled some gas, otherwise he wouldn't be in the same shape."

Jack heard a retching voice behind him, and glared at his pale, stricken men.

"You mean…"

"Somehow, the General managed to secure some of the chemical compounds without Maybourne knowing. However, I don't know if I should be glad of it, because judging from his despair before he fell into that coma, General Hammond wasn't convinced he had made a different."

"Abydos?" Jack finally realized something else.

"Here," Janet handed him a small cassette. "This is his message to you. Pretty vague, I must admit. I almost destroyed it, when Maybourne's men suddenly took over the lower levels. Thank God there aren't many of them now."

Jack smiled, "So you managed to hear this?"

"If I had to destroy it, I should have it memorized, right?"

"Doc," Jack said. "Ignorance is best. What would have happened if they tortured you?"

"Well, welcome to Stargate, General O'Neill. Should I believe that no more strange Air Force men will come to torture me?"

"No more of Maybourne's men. Washington has taken care the rest." Jack gave her his killer smile.

"Wow," the Doc returned the smile equally wide. "Knowing you're here, I feel safer already."

"Nice work, Doc." He pat the pretty Doctor's back and grinned again to see the playful glare from her. His face changed into concern again when he turned to Hammond, but he quickly gave the man in a coma a salute before leaving the infirmary.

**************************

//So, this must be what it feels like to be married//, Sam thought with her mouth quirked up into a small smile.

She started to dress in her drying uniform. Teal'c was lightening a fire, ready to cook something.

Sam glanced toward her lover, thinking about the absurdity of it all, including the wondrous feeling of happiness she was experiencing.

//Of all the weird things that have ever happened to me//, she chuckled to herself again.

Coming down from the high of her love adventure, //…love *adventure*?//, reality came back. Eerily starting to understand each other, Sam roughly guessed that

Teal'c had been exiled from Abydos. She didn't know why, but the fact explained the reason the Gate was left without a DHD. //Maybe he's a prisoner like myself?//

However, she was pretty optimistic about their fate, since in his own way, Teal'c had assured her that Martouf would come to get him. Soon. Teal'c had pointed the sun and raised four fingers. //Four days again//. And judging from his casual stance, he looked absolutely sure that his friend would keep his promise.

Sam thought that at least she could go with him to a Gate where there was a dial, then go home as soon as possible. Finishing up everything… Maybourne…

Bad memories suddenly loomed again before her eyes, and the sorrow of not knowing about Daniel's fate came crashing back.

She glanced to Teal'c, her sight drinking in the strong body that had become familiar to her, and took a deep breath.

//Well, it's good while it lasted//, she thought sadly about the man who had warmed her for a while and would be gone from her life soon. She had known it wouldn't last, but still…

A loud noise was suddenly heard.

Jumping up from her reverie, Sam saw Teal'c ran out.

//Oh God!// She suddenly realized what had happened.

The Gate.

//Someone's coming!//

A moment later, she found herself standing, frozen and hopeful, in front of the Gate.

//Would people be surprised to find me free?//, she frantically thought. Somehow, Teal'c seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he swiftly took Sam's arm and dragged her to stand behind him. Protecting her.

However, when the bluish light finally revealed the familiar form of Martouf, the man did not seem surprised to see her with Teal'c at all.

He even looked… *relieved*.

Leaving her bewildered, Martouf greeted Teal'c, lifting one of his hands that Sam realized was clutching some kind of a tool. //Remote dialing device!//.

Then, a moment later, somebody else stepped out from the gate.

"Daniel," Sam gasped with disbelief.

***************************

"Ferretti! How's it going in the Gate Room?" Jack shouted to his radio.

"It's another lock, Sir. We tried to open it by force. I believe this is where most of the remaining officers are located, Sir."

"I'm coming your way!"

Jack ran toward the ladder, then found Ferretti and his men in front of the main lock to the Gate Room.

"Can you override the security lock? We can't afford another two-day laser cutting."

"What's your suggestion, Sir?"

Jack pursed his lips. //Could it be?// he thought. //It's worth a try//.

"Prepare yourself," he stepped forward and studied the lock box beside the hatch. In the meantime, somebody handed him a tear gas mask to wear.

He opened the box slowly, pressed the MENU button and typed 'MANUAL OVERRIDE'.

He hesitated when a line popped up: 'Enter Authorization ID'

"Ok, Hammond," he murmured. "If you really expected me to rescue you, you'd better have kept my ID intact in the database."

He typed: 'ONEILL'

It felt like ages when the small screen went blank…

…then finally beeped: 'Enter Password'.

Jack felt his tensed neck relax a little. He glanced to Ferretti, who was watching him warily with his battle-ready stance, then typed quickly: 'DOBEYS_WOOF_WOOF'.

It was a sheer luck that the door hissed open immediately, otherwise Jack would hear that someone was no longer unable to prevent himself from snickering audibly.

"Look out!" somebody screamed. A blast of fire was heard, then Ferretti threw tear-gas bottles inside.

Jack ducked when a bolt of fire sizzled into the steel frame at his side. A body dropped in front of him. Jack leaped over it, stumbled and fired his gun toward the corner of the room.

The battle was only fought for a few seconds. Then the people inside, already paralyzed by the tear gas, surrendered. Ferretti quickly rounded them up and pushed oxygen masks to their faces to control the crazy coughing.

"It's all clear."

But Jack did not listen.

He stood silently in front of the panels, staring to the lonely Gate behind the thick glass.

"Sir?" Ferretti asked carefully, not wanting to waste his time gawking at the incredible sight of the Gate before him.

Jack turned. Even though his mask concealed much of his face, Ferretti could clearly see his expression. He looked… tired.

"They're not here." Jack shook his head.

"Pardon me, Sir?"

"My team. They're not here."

*****************************

"Martouf is wondering whether it is safe to go back to Earth," Daniel translated to Sam. "We can't just go back to Abydos. We have risked our lives going through the Gate. Maybourne's men must have secured the Gate by now."

"Are you sure Maybourne is still on Abydos?" Sam studied the remote dialing device carefully.

"Absolutely. Martouf said that he was very nervous each time the Gate was opened, and most of his war machine was placed to attack anyone coming out from it. It seems that he didn't expect someone friendly from Earth to visit."

"That means he is in his 'all-or-nothing' scenario," Sam said. "God, Daniel. I'm so glad you got out of there alive!"

"I suppose he didn't expect somebody to be 'going out' instead of 'coming in'. Especially somebody who are supposed to be trustworthy, like Martouf here." Daniel looked at her gently.

Sam gave him a warm smile, but then blushed furiously when she caught Teal'c looking at them intently.

Aware of Daniel's puzzled expression, Sam nodded. "Earth it is. Let's just hope they don't shoot a fellow native."

*******************************

It was fascinating, the feeling of travelling through the Gate.

It took only a fraction of a second, but Daniel had never forgotten the joyous feeling that accompanied him whenever the watery-like light in front of him burst so bright. He always closed his eyes when entering it, but he could still see, on the insides of his eyelids, the blazing spectrum of colors which lent him along a path that could lead to a paradise on the other side.

He still closed his eyes when he felt the brightness simmer down abruptly, and his foot reached a hard plank in a room much more cooler than the place he had come from.

//Home//.

He did not expect the stillness that greeted him. Oh, he had wondered if somebody would shoot him once he was back, or, possibly, greet him boisterously like a long-lost lover.

He just did not expect the eerie silence.

"Daniel." He heard Sam whisper, "We're here."

Daniel slowly opened his eyes. It took time for his eyes to adjust the dimness after the dazzle of the bright Gate. Then he saw someone stood in front of him.

At first, he could see only a silhouette of a slim body, then a beautiful smile that could eclipse a sun.

His eyes finally feasted on the full form of the man he knew so well, and at that moment, Daniel suddenly suffered a strange feeling of falling.

//That's peculiar//, he thought. //I thought I already knew Jack by heart//.

Indeed he did. He was already familiar with every line, every nook and corner of that face. Memorized it. Enjoyed it. Got used to it.

But when he saw Jack O'Neill again, brilliant with life, he realized that he had seen nothing. No. He had never, ever, really known Jack before now.

Daniel felt something light inside him, then felt a blaze of joy burning through his body.

*His* Jack.

//I remembered nothing//, he thought. //Before, he was just a shadow. And now, he's come back from the dead… //.

"Ah, Jack," Daniel whispered with a deep sense of relief, feeling as if his world which had been violently turned upside down was suddenly restored back to its axis.

Jack's laughing eyes met his, and for one blissful moment, there was nothing and no one in this room, nothing but only two people that finally recognized their deep connection to each other.

"My Daniel," Jack said softly, voice as sweet as the sound of breeze brushing falling autumn leaves.

*************************

"Somebody has done a great job here," Doctor Janet Frasier murmured while poking on Daniel's wound. "It's healing nicely, and amazingly *fast*, I must say."

The Doctor smiled at him and cocked her head to one side. "This is a work of love."

Daniel returned the smile, "Getting nosy, Doc?"

"I have a great deal of experience. I know the look of a hi-tech touch and a TLC touch. Believe me, they are different. Though I must say I envy all of you a great deal."

"What do you mean?"

"You all went to that other world, came back full of wounds, but also flooded with traces of loving. Are you really going on missions or just socializing?"

Daniel stared at her questioningly. Janet Frasier was smiling and glancing knowingly to the other side of the room. Daniel followed her gaze and rested on Sam, who was sitting silently, watching a medic taking a blood sample from Teal'c.

Daniel widened his eyes and stared at Janet funny. "Don't tell me…"

"All I've got left here is clueless officers and old generals," Janet chuckled. "Though I must say that our recently arrived "old general" is pretty dashing."

Daniel could not help himself. He chuckled, "*Old* general? Jack would surely throw a fit if he heard you say that."

"He's a sight for sore eyes, eh?" Janet winked at him.

As if on cue, the *old* general appeared on the door, both hands resting on his hips. He waved at Daniel, acknowledging him, then strode purposely toward Sam and Teal'c.

Daniel heard Janet sigh, and sympathized. He could not help wanting to do the same thing. The Doctor checked on his bandage for the last time and patted him softly.

"That should do," she said satisfactorily. She studied Daniel's face for a moment and shook her head, followed by a teasing, crooked smile. "Don't go wandering on your own around here."

"Why not?"

"Too many desperate women," she snorted. "And you're a civilian. Nobody gets court martial if they come on to you."

Daniel laughed, "Well, I'm flattered."

"You're not like… already *taken* or anything like that, are you?"

Unable to prevent himself, Daniel glanced toward where Jack was standing. When the General caught his eyes, he felt himself smiling in return.

By the time he stared back at Janet, her face had turned thoughtful. His lingering smile died when he noticed the small crease on her forehead. His internal alarm bell rang.

"I…," he was suddenly lost for words.

Surprisingly, Janet nodded slightly as if she understood him. Her smile was assuring though with a touch of sadness in it.

They both heard Jack approach and turned to him simultaneously.

"How's he doing?" Jack asked, eyes roving all over Daniel, unaware that his gesture had flustered the man. There was bubbling anger in his eyes that stopped both

Daniel and Janet from answering.

"Just wait until I get my hand on whoever did this to you," Jack whispered to Daniel. He gently brushed Daniel's bandaged chest, then caught his eyes. His face softened. "You OK?"

"Uh huh," Daniel smiled, face equally soft, but beaming like a kid. All he felt at the moment was elation over the attention. He wondered if he was just going to melt on the spot.

Jack turned to Janet. "Well, Doc? How is he doing, officially?"

"Amazing," Janet answered uneasily. Both men's reactions unnerved her. "No need to stay in here. As long as he takes the pills to prevent any possibility of infection, sleeps and eats well enough, he'll be as fit as a horse in a few days."

"Great!" Jack grinned widely. The anger vanished completely from his eyes. "Come on, then. The boys are dying to see you."

Daniel's face brightened even more. The boys. How long since he had seen the boys? Too long.

"But…," he suddenly blurted, realizing something. "I thought we were in stand by here."

"*I* stay here. *You* go home," Jack said sternly.

"Jack," Daniel swallowed. //Of course//, he thought. //This is still far from over. A beginning, in fact//. The fear and anxiety he thought had gone flooded back as fierce as before.

Recognizing a beginning of a personal battle, Janet withdrew, giving them some space.

"The boys want to see you," Jack's eyes softened. He recognized worry when he saw one. "They were truly afraid for you."

Daniel squeezed his eyes tight for a moment. "They want to see you, too."

"Hey, it's not like I won't be home at all," Jack tried to be cheerful. However, Daniel's grave expression had opened his own doubts. He did not like to be reminded of

how close he had come to never seeing the boys again. He'd almost lost them, and there was no saying that it might not happen again.

"Those Washington people were so sure that you were dead." Daniel played at his dog tags, trying hard to keep his fingers from reaching for Jack. "I refused to believe them."

He caught Jack's eyes on him and stiffened to the sudden silence between them.

Amazingly, Jack held out his arms without hesitation.

"Danny," he said, words felt like sticking in his throat. Daniel's lost, sorrowful expression pierced him like a knife. How could he say anything else when it was clear that his own existence meant so much to another?

He wrapped his arms warmly around his friend, and Daniel tightened his grip around Jack's waist. It was over so quickly. Both men withdrew, flustered and touched by each other's deep emotions and honesty.

"Let's go," Jack slapped Daniel's back playfully and threw him his clean shirt.

*************************

Sam watched the by play between her two friends, and sighed. She fingered the little translator device she was wearing and returned her attention back to Teal'c.

The Jaffa, that was how he described himself, was watching her with his dark, soft eyes.

"I thought that Daniel Jackson was your mate," Teal'c's voice was strangely disembodied through the translator. Jack had resolved to teach him English, otherwise, he'd said, he constantly felt like he was talking with Darth Vader. "You kept asking for him when we first met. I realize now that I was wrong."

Sam smiled shyly, "We are close friends. And we were in difficult circumstances."

Teal'c did not say much, but continued to study her intently. Despite herself, Sam did not feel bothered with such scrutiny, since the man's eyes were conveying no messages except gentle attention and affection.

"You are a warrior," Teal'c said again.

"Yes."

The Jaffa finally looked elsewhere. The sudden loss of contact left Sam feeling bereft. She wondered whether the fact that she was a 'warrior' had made a difference in the Jaffa's opinion of her. She also wondered about why she cared so much for that.

Jack returned with Daniel in tow. He gave a friendly smile to Teal'c.

"I'll be back soon. Someone will show you to your room, Teal'c," Jack said. He turned to Sam, and his gaze turned affectionate, "I hate to do this to you, considering what's happened to you. But we are on Combat Alert."

"I'm fine, Jack. Let me rest for a while; I'll be ready soon."

"I do not like Samantha Carter being involved in the incoming attack, O'Neill," Teal'c suddenly said.

The three of them; Sam, Daniel, and Jack stared at the Jaffa with surprise in their faces.

"Why?" Sam stared, dismayed. A bleak certainty stole over her. Teal'c had disapproved. She could not believe how hurt she felt at the moment.

But when Teal'c answered, it wasn't with the disapproval she expected.

"I do not want her to get hurt or killed. She is very precious to me," he said.

She was lost for words.

The look on both Jack and Daniel's faces was pure amazement.

It was Jack who recovered first and winked to Sam knowingly. "My God, Carter. What have you done to him?"

Sam was staring at Teal'c wide-eyed, heart thundering, not knowing what to say.

"Never mind," Jack said quickly. "I suppose I should leave you two here to talk things out. Come, Daniel."

Daniel grinned to Sam. He gave her two thumbs up, and then caught Teal'c's eyes. A sudden wave of kinship to this man blew him with a surprising intensity. He knew what he felt.

//Precious//, he thought. //Jack//.

He nodded to the Jaffa with a warm, understanding expression, and went out, away from them.

***************************

The boys were ecstatic. Paul, trying hard to stay up, took one look at Daniel and joy washed over his face. He pitched into Daniel's arms, wailing, "Mommy!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "We've got to do something about this nickname of yours."

Somehow, it no longer mattered to Daniel. He buried his nose in the golden silky hair, breathing in the delicious baby smell the little boy seemed to eternally keep, and felt a desperate urge to cry.

//Mine//.

"Can I see your wound?" Shane asked excitedly.

"Guys," Jack said sternly. "Leave Daniel alone. He needs rest."

"I made him some soup," Brad said, face white. The reality of both of his 'parents' being so close to death staggered him. He looked at his father, taking in that he had not changed out of his uniform. He quickly pretended not to notice.

"Where are you going to sleep, Daniel?" Charlie asked. "Now Dad's home, your room has become Brad's."

"In my room," Jack said.

All of his sons looked at him.

"Are you gonna sleep together?" Charlie asked innocently.

Daniel blushed furiously.

"I will take the *sofa*." Jack patted on the place he was sitting.

"Why? Your bed is big enough for two."

Jack caught his oldest son's interested expression and glared. "Daniel is hurt. He needs bigger space. We'll arrange how we sleep later on when he's well enough." His face dared any of his boys to continue fussing, but it seemed that they got the message.

"Sleep with me, Daddy!" Paul offered generously.

"Hush, son, you'll be sorry once your bed is full of me. Now, give Dad and Daniel a kiss and go to sleep. It's *very* late."

"I want Brad's soup!" Shane protested.

"Take a bowl and go to your room."

"Can I sleep with Daniel?" Paul's voice sounded pitiful.

"No," Jack said mercilessly. "Come on, guys. Can't you see that Daniel is tired?"

They did not look convinced, but agreed that they needed to sleep anyway.

"Night, Daniel," Shane kissed Daniel's cheeks. "Night, Dad." This time he didn't just kiss his father, but also held him tightly. His twin followed.

Paul was reluctant, but he gave both his Dad and 'Mommy' a good smack anyway. In a few moments, the younger boys had retired to their respective rooms.

"You too, Brad," Jack quietly told his oldest son.

"You're going again, aren't you?" Brad mumbled the question, back facing his father.

Jack exchanged glances with Daniel and grimaced. "Yeah."

Brad placed sandwiches in a large lunch box in silence. He took a plastic bag and put it in along with a big thermos.

"For your breakfast, Dad," he announced when he was finished.

Jack took his son in his arms, and Brad sagged limply. "Not again, Dad," he sobbed suddenly.

Jack gently unfastened his son's fingers on his back. "You know that I'll be back."

"Damn you." Brad turned and ran upstairs.

Jack meant to call out, but his throat had gone dry. He tried to smile toward Daniel's equally miserable face and asked softly, "Since when did he start throwing tantrums like that?"

"I won't be able to sleep," Daniel whispered. "Knowing you're there."

"Nothing will happen tonight. If you're okay by morning, come and see me at the Mountain, okay?"

"Let me follow you to Abydos."

"No way." Jack wiped imaginary sweat from his face. "Jesus, Daniel. You aren't supposed to be there at all. You're almost…" He swallowed then mumbled to himself,

"Damn Carter for recruiting you."

"I made a promise," Daniel swallowed nervously. "To a woman, there."

Jack was silent. There was something that crossed his face for a fraction of a second. Daniel wondered what it was.

"A woman," Jack whistled and grinned. "There's still hope for you, gay boy."

"It wasn't like that," Daniel looked at the General softly. "I think you know *why*." He took Jack's hand and caressed those fingers lovingly.

Jack let him. Then, finally, he breathed a deep sigh. "Daniel, we have to talk about this."

"We don't have to do it now," Daniel grinned. Jack didn't mind him holding his hand. That was good enough for him. "I can wait."

"I'm not gay."

"I'm not looking for sex."

Jack looked at him incredulously. "Okay. It is obvious that we shouldn't talk about this *now*."

"Can I kiss you good night?" Daniel pressed Jack's palm to his cheek and closed his eyes.

"Danny, please."

Daniel blew a huge breath. "Oh well," he smiled and released Jack's palm. "A man's got to try, eh?"

His friend's eyes were gentle and affectionate. "You can't go back to Abydos, Daniel. Your job there is over."

"Not really."

Jack bit his lip, "I really hate to say this; but you're not trained for battle, and you're still hurt. You might endanger us."

"I realize that, Jack. But give me a chance. I won't jeopardize the whole mission. You can't underestimate me either. I can communicate with the people, and I'm the one who knows where the bombs are located in the city."

"You're hurt!" Jack exclaimed. But then he sighed loudly, "I respect a man's promise to a woman. I'll honor that, okay? Let me think and decide what's best."

"That's good enough," Daniel nodded. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid tonight?"

"Scout's honor."

Jack picked up the plastic bag with Brad's sandwiches and went out. Daniel stood sorrowfully in the doorway, looking out as Jack started his car. A moment later, frantic footsteps were heard, and Brad's pale face appeared. He ran to his father and kissed him through the open car window.

Once the car finally disappeared from their sight, Brad leaned his head to Daniel's shoulder.

"Is it always this painful?" Daniel asked softly.

"What?"

"Loving a straight man."

He felt Brad's fingers finding his and squeezed it tightly.

"I fell in love with a straight man, once," Brad said.

"What did you do?"

"I waited."

"Is it working?"

"I wasn't patient enough."

Daniel released Brad's fingers and curled his arm around the young man's shoulder.

"If there is any consolation," Brad continued. "There won't be anybody else. Ever. I know my Dad. You won't have a rival."

Daniel nodded, looking at the horizon, realizing that dawn would be coming soon.

****************************

Jack had been trying on the EVA suit when a small commotion was heard outside the bio lab.

"What happened?" he asked Janet, who was tapping her pencils studiously on her notes.

"Prince Charming is coming, I bet."

"Prince Charming?"

"The mighty, interminably cute, Professor."

"Prince *Charming*? Oh please," Jack rolled his eyes.

"You don't think he's charming?" Janet asked nonchalantly, but her eyes actually studied Jack's expression seriously.

Jack grimaced. He did not want to say much. He had noticed how women and men alike had been drawn to Daniel. Hell, even if Jack was honest to himself…

"Yeah, he's got something, alright," Jack sighed. "The guy's very passionate. I find it very…"

"Sexy?" Janet asked.

"Admirable," Jack glared at her. Then his eyes turned dreamy. "He loves my kids. Truly loves them."

There was a curious expression on Janet's face.

"I mean, he's *here* because of *them*. Him, the guy whose number one allergy is the military." There was something similar to awe in the General's face. "I would be crazy to ever let the man go. Nobody has loved my children like that before. And my kids are as crazily in love with him as well."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"*Nothing*," Jack glanced at Janet with an incredulous expression. "What, I should shoo him out of my house?"

Janet shrugged. "Just don't ever take anything for granted, Sir."

"I wish he wasn't on this project. I just can't handle seeing him got caught up in all this. I mean… I almost *lost* him."

"I heard that his performance was outstanding."

"Yeah," Jack was gloomy. "Too bad."

Janet flipped her clipboard close and smiled at the softhearted General. "You really care for him, don't you?"

"I care for the guy very much," Jack said softly. "I just hope that it's enough for him."

Janet watched the soft brown eyes and saw the vulnerability in there.

He looked at her helplessly, unable to prevent himself from opening up and saying things that he might regret later on. Hell, come to think of it, what would the good Doctor think about the meaning of his word? He swallowed.

"Did you know that I was a real good friend with Harry Maybourne while we were in the Academy?"

"No," Janet said quietly. "What happened?"

"There's this girl…"

Suddenly, the door was opened abruptly. Sam entered, looking fresh and strong. And worried.

"I have to tell you something," she said breathlessly then suddenly remembered her manner. "Sir." After all, Jack was the number one in the whole mountain now.

"What is it, Sam?"

"You, sir. You're a *General*! You can't just jump in the frontline."

"Why not? Mac Arthur did it, Roman Generals did it." Jack lifted his arms, trying to fold them in front of his chest.

"Stay put, General, I need another run," Janet grimaced and pulled both of his arms down.

"You're supposed to run the whole mission. Safely. Not trying to get yourself killed the moment you arrive on Abydos. Forgive me, Sir, but- Jaaack, you're crazy, you know that?"  
  
"There's no other way. Ferretti is responsible for the evacuation, you and Teal'c for disabling Apophis's mother ship, Armstrong for earth defense. The first attack requires ingenuity, creativity, and full command. That would be *my* job."

"Armstrong can do it."

"Dammit, Sam. You know he *can't*."

"Sir…"

"Nobody else can handle Maybourne and the RoboSoldiers except me. You got that?"

"The chemicals…"

"Maybourne only got thirty percent of it. General Hammond had managed to secure the rest."

Sam slumped dejectedly.

"Hey," Jack said gently. "I *am* a frontline guy, Carter. I'll survive. I'm here, aren't I?"

"It's suicide," Sam pouted like a kid.

"Nah! My job is to protect my men! Come on! You know it has to be done. It's worth a little risk. Where's your faith? Now stop nagging and just do what you can do. Okay?"

Sam looked at him with damp eyes. "Will you be okay?"

"Geez! I'm your General, for crying out loud! You don't question your superior!"

Sam could only nod. She walked out, looking even more worried and defeated.

"She doesn't trust me," Jack sighed sadly.

"No," Janet shook her head with determination. "She's worried about you. That's a different thing. She never questioned your strategy. She only protested your *place*."

"Do you think I'm crazy too, Doc?" Jack's voice sounded quiet and subdued.

"You sound like a most reasonable person, Sir."

"I'm scared." Jack sighed. "God knows, I'm scared."

**************************

"All hands to battle stations!" Jack hit the klaxon, and the sound blared loudly to every corner of Cheyenne Mountain.

Hundreds of battle-ready soldiers, all clad in anti-chemical suits streamed through the entrances to the Gate platform. The support crew shutdown all non-essential duties. The infirmary, logistics, and monitoring stations were double staffed. Doors to inner decks were sealed and double-checked.

At the upper levels and outside of the mountain, soldiers prepared their stations. Tanks with small missiles were placed strategically, while helicopters were set to be ready to transport or evacuate any time.

Jack appointed Major Armstrong, formerly leader of SG-11, to take over the Gate command room.

"Remember," Jack said while double-checking his suit and laser gun. "If Code Red is in, conceal the Gate, evacuate everybody in this place, and shut down the Mountain. Don't wait for us, and abort any rescue attempts! Got it? Here's my authorization code and the President's private phone line."

He turned to Sam and Teal'c. "Whatever happens to us, just go and find Apophis' mother ship. Keep the communication open. Don't try to help us if things get bad. Try to help yourself. Maybourne is mine."

He nodded to Martouf, "Ferretti is the best at handling evacuations. I hope we can get your people out in time."

They agreed then turned into their positions.

Finally, Jack turned and went to Daniel, who was standing alone in a deserted corner. The archaeologist's face looked unbelievably white and stoic. Under the protective suit, the man looked so small.

"You follow Ferretti's orders, okay? I know you feel the responsibility to help Sha're, but try to be reasonable. You're still wounded, despite what you're feeling. Promise me."

"Don't go," Daniel whispered suddenly. "Please, Jack."

"Danny…"

"I won't go if you won't either."

"Danny, that's not fair. Besides, I'm not trying to get myself killed," Jack said gently. "Brad would condemn me to hell for that. Try to have faith in me, Danny."

"Don't break my heart." Daniel could no longer able to prevent the tears leaking from his eyes. "Please."

Jack gasped from the sudden feeling of pain in his chest. What had this man done to provoke such despair in him? A simple request could do this to him? When was the last time somebody had asked him this and meant it? Jack realized that he had never loved Daniel as much as he did at the moment.

"Tsk, now how can you wipe that snoot away when you're already inside this monkey suit?" Jack said in a shaking voice. He put his hands to Daniel's helmet, pretending to cup his cheeks. The hands were immediately trapped under Daniel's palms.

"I hate it when you get like this, Danny," he whispered again. "And it's not like it's easy knowing you'll be out there, too."

Their glove-clad fingers intertwined and clasped tightly.

Daniel silently watched him and saw Jack's sad, but determined gaze. He felt like he was clinging to a runaway horse that nothing could stop.

When Jack released his hands, he just stayed frozen.

"Get the MALP and laser shields ready!" Jack hollered through his suit's intercom.

Ten machines rolled automatically onto the platform. A dozen men ran and rechecked everything.

"Get the laser burners ready!" he shouted again when the men checking the MALP and laser shields gave him thumbs up.

"Twenty seconds to launch!" On Jack's wrist, a small monitor blinked on the status of the inner deck. Locked and secure.

"Fifteen seconds!"

The faces of Brad, Charlie, Shane and Paul flashed before his eyes.

"Ten seconds!"

The whole platform turned to dead silence.

Jack turned his face, and found Daniel facing at him. He wished he could see those beautiful blue eyes, but the light reflecting on his friend's helmet concealed it.

"Five! Four!"

The Gate flared with light.

"NOW!"

The MALP, the laser shields, and the laser burner jolted and ran with surprising speed into the blue water.

Jack and the rest of the men followed behind. In just a moment, most of them were gone, leaving several teams behind, waiting for the SAFE sign before joining the men up front.

Sam squeezed Teal'c's hands then turned to see Daniel, who was standing rigidly like a statue, eyes locked on the brightness.

***************************

The MALP blew up a second after it appeared in Abydos. The sudden disconnection had triggered the laser burner to fire and the laser shield to be activated the moment it stepped onto the platform.

Safe for a while under the 'bubble' of the laser shield, the soldiers jumped and rolled to the ground, watching in amazement at the number of laser shots being directed to them.

"Shit!" Jack cursed. "They are supposed to be our *friends*!" His eyes darted frantically around.

"Team 1! Five o'clock! Team 2! Eleven o'clock! Don't destroy the controller! I repeat! Don't destroy the controller!" Jack crawled. Ten he mumbled, "Property of the United States, my ass! Damn robots."

Suddenly light burst brightly and a hot wave of air struck them.

//"Shields down twenty percent, Sir!"//

"Widen the range! All of you, take a cover immediately!"

Another bright light.

//"Shields down forty percent!"//

What Jack's eyes caught chilled his heart. There were bulky, compact forms of the DX devices all around them, moving with certainty and speed, firing lasers mercilessly at them. He glanced backward, and saw his men spread out rapidly. The shield was only effective for about a hundred-meter radius, after that, the men were on their own.

Screams were starting.

//"Men down! Men down!"//

//"DX! Six o'clock!"//

Jesus, they were all over, Jack thought frantically. For a split second, he took in his surrounding. The enemies were all DX devices. No men in sight.

//Good, at least, once the controllers are disabled, they are all useless//.

He also noticed that the Stargate was surrounded with thick bushes.

"Put up fire barricade! Six o'clock!" he yelled.

Several men moved the laser burner frantically. It shot large fires toward the bushes and the incoming DX from their behind. More screams followed.

"Damn!" Jack cursed. He ran faster. In just a moment, he was out of the safety of the shield.

"Sir! In front!"

Jack dropped his body, rolled, and shot with dead accuracy to the incoming robot.

At the same time, the sound of explosion was heard, and he turned to see the fire was burning brightly, and moving rapidly to form a perfect rear barricade. The DX behind them sensed the dangerous rise of temperature and started to move back.

"Launch missiles!"

//"Shields down sixty percent! Sir! We can't hold it any longer!"//

"Move! Move! All of you! Out of the shield! Behind the fire! More missiles!"

//"Men down! Men down!"//

Jesus.

"Team 1!" Jack hollered to his comm. "Report!"

//"We can't make it, Sir! They're too many!"//

Sure enough, the mob of DXs was concentrated around the area.

"Use your burner, dammit!"

//"We're down to three!"//

Jack frantically glanced around, grimaced to see a moaning body laying not far behind him. Just a split second later, the corner of his eye caught- a movement, and he ducked, avoiding the laser shot by a millimeter. He rolled and took the hand missile launcher from the falling man's fingers while his other hand pulled his gun's trigger to disable the DX shooting at him.

"You'll do good," Jack whispered to wounded man. "You'll be fine."

The eyes pleaded at him, full of pain.

Jack swallowed. "Hang on Team 1! I'm coming!"

Just as he was about to jump, the blaring shots from his right suddenly stopped.

//"This is team 2! We have disabled the controller!"//

"Good!" Jack called. "Now get back here and take the injured back to the Gate!"

//"Shield is only thirty percent, Sir!"//

"Make the range smaller! Fifteen meters radius! Hurry!"

He ran, zigzagged. Now, all he had to do was to disable the other one.

**************************

"Code Yellow!"

Daniel's eyes widened when the Gate blared back to light.

"Daniel, get back!" Sam shouted frantically when she saw the archaeologist run toward the platform.

"Jack…," Daniel choked.

"Doctor Jackson! Watch out!" Ferretti caught his arm and pulled him harshly aside.

What those people saw next was pure horror.

Men, limping, bloodied, screaming and moaning, appeared. Even some of them were carrying unmoving bodies.

"No…," Sam said with a hoarse voice. Teal'c turned to her with eyes turned cold. "Harden your heart, warrior Samantha."

Medic aides streamed from everywhere. Janet snapped her detector shut. "No contamination! I'll take them directly to the Infirmary!"

Ferretti clenched Daniel's arms tightly. "Doctor Jackson, please. The Code isn't green, yet."

Daniel fought him, partly hysterical, partly instinctive. All he felt at the moment was a desperate urge to just jump to the beckoning light. And find…

"The General isn't here," Ferretti whispered gently. "He isn't here."

The body inside his arms trembled hard, then slumped.

Daniel sobbed.

**************************

Jack finally reached the dug out. He inhaled slowly when he saw the bodies littered all over.

"We have taken out a lot of the DX, Sir," Captain Anderson smiled painfully at him. "But I'm afraid we can't go on."

Jack bit his lip, seeing the open wound of the man's thigh. "I'm sorry about this," he whispered.

"We're okay, Sir," Anderson nodded. "No one's dead."

Jack watched ahead. Yes. There were only two more DX left around the controller, shooting at them inaccurately. It was clear that the DX were damaged.

"Take down those two, then crawl back to the Gate, okay? Wait for my signal." Jack handed him his missile launcher.

Anderson nodded. He turned to his stomach and fired his missile canon. When the remaining DX exploded, he glanced to Jack and grinned, "Piece of cake, Sir."

Jack grinned back then jumped and ran as fast as he could to the defenseless controller.

It should be another piece of cake.

Until a sudden burning pain on his shoulder brought him down.

"Shit!" Jack rolled to the nearest bush. He grimaced painfully to see his shoulder.

A bullet embedded in the metal handle of his suit. A *rifle* bullet.

He crawled back and bellowed, "Surrender yourself! This is General O'Neill! Surrender yourself!"

No more shots.

"Jesus! Whoever you are, you should know by now that WE'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ENEMIES!"

No answer.

Jack peeked and squinted his eyes towards the controller. There was a small open panel with a steel shield around. A man was sitting inside.

"Who are you?" Jack yelled.

No answer.

Gritting his teeth, Jack dragged his launcher to a visible place.

"LOOK!" he yelled again. "I can burn you to a well done T-bone steak anytime with this!"

A movement.

"State your name and rank!"

Slowly, a face appeared. A frightened face.

"Sergeant Andrew Phillips. SG-9."

Jack exhaled his breath, "Are you alone?"

"Y… yes."

"Good. Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, put down your weapon and place your hands on your head. Stand slowly."

It took forever for the man to finally appear. But he had no choice.

Grimacing from the pain in his shoulder, Jack also stood. After he was sure that the frightened young man in front of him was harmless, he stepped up to him carefully. Then, he placed the tip of his laser gun on the man's head.

"Change the controller to a stand down."

"Y… yes, Sir." He frantically pushed buttons.

Jack heard the shots from the remaining DX stop completely.

"Where are the others?"

"They went to attack the Goa'uld's base."

"The bombs?"

The young man swallowed, "They should be activated by now."

"How much longer?"

He nervously glanced at his own suit, spread neglectfully near him. "One hour at the enemy base… and… and… two hours at the city."

"Shit!" Jack cursed loudly. "Anderson! Ramius! Whoever! Signal Code Green, right now!"

*****************************

"Code Green!"

"NOW!" Ferretti yelled.

Daniel could not think. His mind was completely blank. //There were so many deaths…//. Images of his parents' tragic death haunted him.

//Jack…//

"Come, Doctor Jackson." Ferretti's voice was surprisingly gentle. "We need you now."

He felt his movement robotic, and his mouth worked on their own, "Yes."

//Cold//, he thought with pure despair. //Cold//.

*****************************

Jack opened his helmet and wiped the sweat on his forehead.

"Are we…," Phillips whispered and stopped.

"Court martialed? You bet," Jack snorted.

"We didn't know, Sir. Honest."

"We'll hear your testimony later. Now, move."

Suddenly, Jack's radio blared. //"General O'Neill?"//

"Ferretti! Good to hear you! Now listen to me. You've only got *two* hours. You hear that? TWO."

//"Jack?"//

It felt like the air evaporated so suddenly, leaving him breathless. "Danny?" Jack whispered.

//"You okay?"// the radio had extinguished any distinctive familiarity of Daniel's voice, but it did not hide the high pitch of a man in the brink of breaking down.

"I'm fine." Jack suddenly felt himself smile. "Be careful. You've got a short time. Find Sha're, will you?"

There was a moment of silence between them.

//"I… I feel…"//, Daniel whispered. His voice was low and disembodied. //"Now, I feel fine."//

"Yes, Danny," Jack said quietly, full of understanding. "We're all gonna be okay. I promise. Good luck, my friend." He broke the communication.

Then, he glared to Phillips. "Now, move!"

**************************

Ferretti watched anxiously toward Daniel. There was something about this man that had captivated him. He was beautiful with all of these intense, confusing emotions, he grudgingly admitted. The complex mix of fear, anxiety, desperation, and hopefulness was heartbrokenly noble and touching, and just simply… *beautiful*. It was as if he was *perfect* to wear them.

Ferretti could not help thinking that despite the strength this man was emanating, he also had the vulnerable quality of a damsel in distress.

No wonder he had the General wrapped around his finger.

"Where to, Martouf?" Daniel asked. His voice was still shaking, but surprisingly, his face colored again, and he found his balance very quickly. It looked like something heavy had been lifted from him. It was hard to remember that, before, Ferretti had thought the man was going to faint at seeing all of the blood and death.

"This way." Martouf showed them.

***************************

//"Carter? I'll meet you in the Tapa field. Tell Teal'c that."//

Sam relayed it to Teal'c. The Jaffa looked thoughtful then gave her a small smile.

"What do you think?" Sam asked nervously.

"You shouldn't always question his judgment." Teal'c said. "I think O'Neill is the finest warrior I've ever met."

****************************

Martouf led them to the city. The place was deadly quiet. No one was around. Not even a single person.

"Oh, God," Daniel whispered. "Where are they?"

"Maybe in the underground tunnel… or…," Martouf stopped.

"Or?"

"The exile."

"The exile?" Daniel exclaimed. He remembered again the cool cave and the nothingness around.

"Doctor Jackson," Ferretti interjected. "Would you please tell me where the bombs are located?"

Daniel nodded. He stared at Martouf and made a decision.

"It's best if we defuse the bombs first. You can try to find your people in the tunnel, Martouf. Once you do, notify me. Press this button to talk and release it to hear. We communicate with this." Daniel showed him his radio communication, then shoved his digital watch into Martouf's hand. "Can you be back here when the number on this device turns fifteen?"

"Yes. Very well, Daniel Jackson. Good luck."

Daniel turned to Ferretti. "Let me show you the way."

"He…?"

"He'll meet us back here in half an hour. The man is resourceful. He will know what to do if he finds his people."

There was admiration shone from Ferretti's eyes. "I can see that your talent will be wasted if you stay behind, Doctor Jackson."

"Thank you, come on."

****************************

"Shooting at your own allies!" Jack cursed. His men had numbered down to only fifty left. Most had been evacuated back to Earth. He did not want to think about the guilt that always accompanied him when losing men during mission. There was no time.

"Can't the DX distinguish friends and foes?" Jack glared again to Phillips who was walking briskly, desperately trying to out step the General and avoiding his constant cursing.

"I… well, General Maybourne didn't wish to do that, Sir. Ever since somebody broke out through the Gate the day before…"

//That was Martouf and Daniel//, Jack thought, remembering Daniel's story.

"…he's been convinced that the enemy may come from the Gate. So he set the DX into battle stand."

"How many DX are around?"

"About four hundred, Sir."

"FOUR HUN…? For crying out loud!" Jack shook his head. "There were only about thirty around the Gate."

"Yes, sir," Phillips nodded. "Most of them were launched to attack the Goa'uld last night."

Jack was silent for a moment.

"What's the situation now?" he asked quietly.

Phillips gulped, "Well, Sir…"

"That bad, huh?"

"Sir…." Phillips looked tired. "We need to activate the bombs, Sir. Otherwise…"

"And kill the native people?"

Phillips looked at him puzzlingly. "We'll launch the bombs only to the Goa'ulds, Sir."

Jack sighed loudly, "I suppose you know nothing about your commandant at all, do you?"

******************************

"We've got two, already. Do you remember how many of these?" Ferretti watched his men disable the bomb.

"I hate to say this to you, Major. But I figured it's about fifteen," Daniel said. His face was wet from sweat, and he was constantly worried. //Where's Martouf? And Jack…?//

"Fifteen?" Ferretti raised his eyebrows. "Jesus. General Maybourne really doesn't want to miss anybody."

"Can you get all fifteen? We did the last two in almost a half hour. We only have one and a half hours left."

"We use the suits, Doctor Jackson. We'll be safe."

"This place will be eternally contaminated!"

"Ah, yes," Ferretti said in apologetic tone. "We'll try our best. Maybe we prioritize the most important places first. Like the town center and the city's water reservoir?"

"Good idea," Daniel said. Both men received a nod from the man disabling the bomb, then started to move again.

**************************

"I suppose we have no other choice," Jack whispered when they had almost arrived at the battle scene. From this distance, he already saw the flashes of explosions and laser fires. He could imagine the annihilation going on there.

"We'll evacuate SGC personnel from the battle scene," he said resolutely.

"Sir?" Phillips' eyes widened.

"Carry on with the bombs," Jack sighed. "We change objections, now."

**************************

//"Ferretti?"//

Ferretti scrambled for his radio quickly. Daniel stared, wide-eyed. It was Jack's voice.

"General?"

//"I'm sending most of my men to help you evacuate the Abydonians. There's been a change of plan. How are the bombs coming?"//

"I must admit we're pessimistic, Sir. There's still many left, and we're also unsure whether there's more we don't know."

//"Evacuate the people. That's the most important thing to do. We can't defuse the bomb over here."//

"Yes, sir."

//"Danny?"//

"Jack?" Daniel gasped, starting to hyperventilate. "Is… is everything OK?"

//"It's a lost cause here. I'm evacuating all SGC personnel. I haven't found Maybourne yet. The robots doing their job fine, but they're outnumbered. How's your promise to the girl?"//

Despite himself, Daniel smiled. "It seems they're in hiding. Martouf is trying to find them."

//"You be careful."//

"I will, Jack."

//"…luv ya, buddy."//

Did he hear it right? Daniel stared at the radio communication for a long moment, it started to worry Ferretti.

"Doctor Jackson? We're done here. What's next?"

"Oh?" Daniel answered absentmindedly. His eyes were dreamy as if he was elsewhere at the moment. But his face looked…

"Yes," Daniel suddenly laughed joyously. "This way."

Ferretti stared at his back puzzlingly.

***************************

//"Daniel Jackson?"//

"Martouf! How's it going?"

//"The people are in the underground tunnel, what should we do?"//

Daniel relayed the information to Ferretti. Ferretti sighed loudly, "They've got to get out of here. I can't guarantee their safety. We aren't sure about the bombs."

Daniel bit his lip, "Would it be wise if I suggested them to be evacuated to Earth?"

Ferretti looked at him, half amused. "You're crazy, Doctor Jackson."

"Martouf?" Daniel grinned to Ferretti. His eyes shone something like 'watch me'. Ferretti only shook his head.

//"Yes?"//

"Take them to the Gate. Now."

*****************************

Jack found Sam and Teal'c at the Tapa field. A field not very far from the battle scene.

The place was a real horror.

Bodies, limbs, blood, burning robots, littered all over. And the explosions, cries of help and pain, deafened them.

Teal'c's face looked tired and sad.

"Kasuf's people," Teal'c said pointing at the bodies. "The men of Abydos."

"Jesus!" Jack shouted when an explosion banged so close to them. Phillips was right. Despite their ability, the DX and the Abydonian were outnumbered. There was no other way.

"We have to activate the bomb!" he shouted to Sam. "What do you think?"

"Teal'c said we still need to destroy the mother ship. Otherwise all of these deaths are useless."

"You try to round SG-9 members up with some of these people. Take them back to the Gate."

"Sir…"

"I'll stay with Teal'c. Don't protest."

Teal'c stared at Sam, "You go, Samantha. I will feel better."

Sam gritted her teeth and nodded. "Fine. And it's not like I won't be thrilled to meet up with SG-9 again. We have a grudge that needs to be settled."

Jack grinned then grimaced when another explosion was heard nearby.

"You go, girl," he said.

****************************

"We done ten, now!"

"Good!" Daniel exclaimed. "Now… the rest are on the outskirts of the town, I think."

Ferretti prevented him from moving. "Doctor Jackson, I think it's best if we don't push ourselves."

"What do you mean?"

"We'd better go back, and take care of the refugees. Now."

"Are you crazy? There's five more left!"

"Look at the time. Besides, Martouf will need help."

***************************

"Where's the controller?" Jack shouted to Phillips, who was positively pale and stricken.

"That way." He pointed. "Sir. It's time."

And the first chemical missile was launched.

**************************

Daniel ran frantically to the tunnel.

"Martouf!" he shouted to a huddled of people. No answer.

He stared at one woman, who cowered fearfully. "Martouf?" he asked gently. "Did you see him?"

"The demon took him."

Daniel felt himself growing cold. "What demon?"

She shook her head frantically, and started to wail in fear.

"Let's go," Daniel quickly took her up and brought her to the center of huddling women and children. "Follow this man," Daniel said to them, pointing at Ferretti. "He'll help you to safety."

"There are more of us," one of the woman said.

"Show me where." Daniel turned to Ferretti. "Please take care of them."

"Doctor Jackson!" Ferretti protested.

"I have to find Martouf. You go ahead."

He did not wait for Ferretti's reply. He just went forward, running along the darkened tunnel.

Then stopped.

He was frozen to the spot.

A Goa'uld stood in front of him. Face stoic, yellow eyes shone frighteningly. And when the voice shouted, "You!" it was eerily disembodied and dangerous.

Daniel swallowed. He knew this Goa'uld.

"Sha're," he whispered.

****************************

The violence of the explosion threw Jack to the ground. Heat, accompanied by air pressure with the force of a hurricane, slammed him mercilessly; he lost consciousness for a moment. However, a surge of will abruptly awoke him and he watched in horror over what had happened.

A yellow mist had burst forth, sweeping across the battlefield like a giant hurricane. People on both sides, enemy and Abydonians, stopped for a moment as the deadliness hurtled toward them and they toppled to the ground. Frantic cries were soon heard, followed by screams of pain.

Screams that were more like madness than just pain.

Teal'c crawled to Jack, eyes watering like a fountain behind the helmet. He leaned toward Jack and whispered fiercely, "I trust you, O'Neill. I will not be judgmental toward your decision. But some of them are my people."

Jack could not escape those anguished eyes and despite the heat, he realized that he had never before felt this cold.

"God, Teal'c," he choked. What more could he say? "I…I…"

//I'm sorry?// Did it even reflect what he felt at the moment?

//I have no idea…//, he thought in a sudden frantic effort of denial. Yet, he vaguely felt like his soul was leaving his body.

//I have no choice, haven't I?//

They could not stop the battle, nor evacuate the Abydonian soldiers. They also had no idea about the location of the bomb, let alone how to defuse it.

//But…//

He had *no intention* of defusing the bomb. He gave up too easily.

//I never knew it was going to be as horrible as this//.

"There isn't anything I can do. We have no choice," Jack whispered in anguish.

//I could not even imagine it was going to be like this…//

Then, suddenly he wept. //Of course you knew it, O'Neill. You knew it//.

The mass shrieking became deafening, and he could not will his eyes to see anything other than those maddening jerks of limbs and agonized beyond sanity, contorted faces. Faces that were slowly loosing humanity in the most horrible way possible.

A complete annihilation.

"I'm not angry with you and I never doubted your decision," Teal'c said with a trembling voice. "I despair that we now have to live with this for the rest of our lives."

He knew. Teal'c would understand.

//There isn't any choice. We have no time//.

Jack caught the Jaffa's eyes and there was no hatred or anger there, only intense sorrow that no words could ever convey.

"Teal'c…"

"Do not apologize, O'Neill. Do not." The brown eyes suddenly turned hard and cold. "We must find the mother ship."

Jack gulped, then turned to see Andrew Phillips, trembling on the ground. "You," he croaked. "Find Major Carter and accompany her." Then he walked ahead without turning his head.

**************************

"Sha're?" Daniel softly called to her. "It's me...Daniel."

The being that was Sha're stood unmoving. It unnerved Daniel.

"Do you… Do you recognize me?" he asked with hesitation. He didn't know what to do. She… Why did she just stand there?

A small flinch.

Daniel carefully took a step forward.

"Stay where you are, enemy." The disembodied voice stopped him in his tracks.

They stared silently at one another for a long moment, until Daniel saw the yellow eyes flit back into the brown pupils he recognized for a short moment.

//She's changing!// he thought with a sudden rise of hope. //She isn't yet Goa'uld//.

But the eyes changed back.

Daniel took a big step toward her. There was no other way. He could not go back. The rest of the Abydonians and Martouf were behind her.

She did not bulge.

He saw her blink.

His fear subsided. Another big step.

"Sha're, please. Let me go through."

//Why is she just standing there and doing nothing? Can she still recognize me?//

She looked… *indecisive*.

He quickly scanned his surroundings. Despite what he believed before, forward was not the only option he had. It appeared that Sha're was actually standing in front of a two branch tunnel, one of which was concealed behind a rock that anybody breezing by would never have noticed.

And it appeared that Sha're was alone. No other Goa'uld were around.

//"Doctor Jackson?"//

//Goddamn it!// Daniel jumped.

"Ferre…" he tried to answer his radio, but that was as far as he got. Sha're suddenly raised both her hands and shrieked.

Daniel stumbled back frantically when he saw her fingers rip his radio communicator from his suit.

"NO!" he screamed and tore at her fingers, but to no avail. Those small, long fingers were clenching tightly at his uniform as if turning into steel claws.

There were repeating static noises from his radio, located somewhere, and Daniel wasn't sure whether or not it was a good sign. He struggled and used the bulk of his body to throw himself to the ground.

The fingers loosened only to clench back as tightly to his helmet.

"Sha're!" he screamed. "I'll fulfill my promise! I'll save you! Remember!"

Daniel scrambled to sit up and jerkily crawled his body backward. But the small body atop him was turning very heavy.

"It's me!" Daniel started to croak frantically. "Daniel Jackson!"

The fingers on his mask spasmed and to his horror, Daniel heard the sound of the cracking glass of his helmet.

***********************

Both of the men crawled beneath the thick yellow fog. Jerking bodies, contorted with pain and desolation stumbled upon them. Jack watched as one hysterically tried to hack off his own limbs with a sharp weapon, and without hesitation pulled his trigger to the man's head.

The man's body jerked repeatedly and for one horrible moment, Jack thought that the man had turned into a zombie, unable to be killed. The body gave a final jolt and stopped moving. Jack turned to Teal'c, and saw the Jaffa staring at him. He stood frozen for a moment, until he saw the Jaffa give him a small, sad nod.

Jack swallowed. He tried to calm his breathing, then slowly punched on his radio button.

"Carter?"

//"I'm fine, General. How are you and Teal'c?"//

Jack saw Teal'c start to smile.

"We're okay. Have you done your job?"

//"Almost. What else do you want me to do?"//

"Please hack SG-9's communication line to our line. I need to contact them directly."

//"Give me five minutes, Sir. The situation here is rather hairy."//

Jack sighed. He had no doubt about what horror was seizing Sam at the moment. She was always the scientist. Someone more fit to work behind a desk. He knew that as soon as this was over, all of his subordinates would be trapped in psychological trauma.

"The robots seem to have stopped working," Teal'c notified.

Jack cocked his head. He still couldn't see anything, but Teal'c was right. The noises had started to abate.

The scream. The laser blast.

He scrambled to his suit pocket quickly, and took out a small detector.

"What is that, O'Neill?"

"Detector. I hope I can use it to trace the DX controller and the mother ship."

The Jaffa gave him a look. "Why have you not used it before?"

"We could get detected by them. We'll be sitting ducks."

"Do you think it is safe to use it now?"

Jack bit his lip. "I don't know."

Teal'c stood patiently. Waiting for Jack. The complete trust he was showing broke the General's heart. This man… This man never gave anything halfway.

He had trusted Jack since the first time they met. Jack never understood it, but there was an instant strange bond forming between them. He had not hesitated to volunteer himself to pose as a traitor to spy on Apophis, despite the risk of hatred from his fellow people.

He always listened to him.

//Why?// Jack asked himself.

And now… Teal'c was forced to see the destruction of his fellow natives, simply because Jack had not tried hard enough.

He pushed the detector's 'on' button.

"Maybe the controller was paralyzed or already destroyed," he tried to smile reassuringly to Teal'c.

//"General?"//

"Is it done, Sam?"

//"Go ahead, Sir."//

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, and inhaled his breath.

"Maybourne? This is O'Neill."

******************

It was a thought that came from nowhere, but Daniel succumbed to it.

//Let go!//

And let go he did. He abruptly stopped his struggle and felt himself going limp, his muscles relaxed.

The sudden loss of fight apparently surprised Sha're. Almost too predictable, she also stopped her movement; her fingers unclenched a bit, eyes conveying puzzlement. It was at that moment that Daniel, sprawled on his back under Sha're's body, kicked one of his feet forward powerfully. He felt the tip of his boot connect squarely with one of Sha're's legs which gave out a sharp cracking noise, followed by a howl of pain and surprise from her. She rolled away, and with surprising speed,

Daniel jumped to his feet and ran.

He blindly went through the maze, until some form of calmness took over his fear. It was at that moment he finally realized that his radio was still with him, dangling from one cable, dangerously close to falling off. He scrambled to it, gasping with breath and pushed the button.

"Martouf!"

No answer.

"Ferretti?"

//"Doc! Are you okay?"//

"I lost my way! I couldn't find Martouf!"

//"I'm coming your way, Doc."//

"NO!" Daniel panted desperately. He heard the rush of footsteps in the dark as Sha're came for him.

"There is...there is...a Goa'uld nearby!"

//"Doc,"// Ferretti's voice lashed out coldly, //"I've got your sign. Stay moving. I'll try to get there. But please, don't hesitate to shoot with your laser gun."//

//What laser gun?// Daniel thought with a sudden realization that he did not have any. He had left it back at the base.

A rock toppled him down, and Daniel grunted loudly once his helmet connected to the ground and cracked.

He quickly sat up with sudden realization that his helmet had started to crack widely. There was a large hole in it, a result of Sha're's crushing grip. His fall had worsened the damage. Thank God his radio's receiver was still intact in his ear.

//"Doc, do you know how to use the GPS detector?"//

Daniel scrambled to his feet, feeling as if his lungs were ready to explode, but surprisingly relieved to hear Ferretti's voice.

"I...think...so." //Where the hell is it?// His fingers fumbled around the top pocket of his suit, and found the small box he was looking for.

//Hurry! Hurry!// He no longer could think. He just took a little glance at the green button, an eye-catching color among the small little black buttons, and pushed it.

To his amazement, the screen lit up.

"I got it! I got it!"

But his relief was short-lived. An animalistic shriek was heard from behind him. Close to him.

"Ferretti! What should I do with this?"

//"Calm down, Doc. Push the 0-0-8-7 buttons, then after that you don't have to do anything."//

"She's chasing me," Daniel gasped. He started to run again, but knowing he was almost coming to the end of this rope.

//"I got you, Doc. Hang on. Just follow the green light on the detector, okay? It's Martouf's sign. And remember. Don't hesitate to shoot."//

//Shooting be damned//. A beep was heard. Green light. Daniel swallowed. //Follow the green light.// He could do it.

**************************

"Goddamn it, Maybourne! Answer me!"

The thick fog seemed like mocking him for his effort.

"Carter!"

No answer.

Teal'c's head snapped to Jack. His brown, unreadable eyes widened considerably.

"No news from Samantha?" he asked worriedly.

Jack looked at him apologetically. "She can handle it, Teal'c." But of course, the Jaffa could see the anxiety he was trying to hide.

A small beep made Jack jump.

"What is that, O'Neill?"

Jack quickly looked at his GPS detector and saw a green light blinking.

"Apparently, we caught the controller signal."

Teal'c straightened his back abruptly.

"Teal'c?"

"The mist is thinning, O'Neill."

There was only a split second. A split second where the two men exchanged looks and awareness came simultaneously.

It happened so fast. It started as both men saw the beginning of tiny flashes far away. Within a matter of seconds, Teal'c pushed Jack to the ground as Jack threw the detector as far away as he could. The ground was shaking as the detector exploded, shot point blank by the nearest DX. Jagged shards of nearby stones flew and jabbed both men in the back.

It was over in an instant, but long enough for Jack to crawl back onto all fours and push Teal'c back into the fog. But it was clear that the thickest of the chemical mist had finally abated.

"Here, O'Neill," Teal'c breathed heavily and turned into a little cave nearby. Both men jumped and dove in.

Cursing, Jack scrambled behind a large stone slab.

Teal'c's dark eyes conveyed worry. "O'Neill. Please contact Samantha."

"Right," Jack gasped for breath. "Sam! Goddamn it! Answer me! Now!"

//"Sir, this is Sergeant Phillips."//

"Where the hell is Major Carter?!"

//"Her suit was starting to leak. We transported her back to the 'Gate ASAP."//

Both Jack and Teal'c widened their eyes.

"Is she alright?" Jack's voice was dark enough to conceal the sudden tremble in it.

//"Yes, sir. I'm very sure. She handed command over to me, Sir."//

"Acknowledged," Jack breathed. He suddenly wanted to yell for Daniel. The notion that an able soldier like Sam was not invincible doused cold water on his head.

Although he had expected it, he could finally see now the depth of vulnerability of an untrained civilian like Daniel in a situation like this. And he had allowed him to come along. Somebody should shoot him. He bit his lip harder. He couldn't allow himself to worry at the moment. He trusted Ferretti to take care of his...friend.

//*Friend*?//

"Since you're a former SG-9, try contacting your superior right now and have the DX dismantled immediately."

His request was met with silence.

"Phillips?"

//"Yes, Sir. I have to admit that it's gonna be rather tricky. We can't reach the controller."//

"Tell me where it's located in details."

Phillips relayed them the location.

"Why isn't Maybourne answering my calls?"

//"I expect he's not listening to you, Sir,"// Phillips sounded apologetic.

Jack peeked to the mouth of the cave, and saw that the diminishing mist had given way to a spectacular panoramic view of the field of death. He looked at Teal'c whose face had returned to its usual 'devoid of emotion' condition. He swallowed.

"Okay, we're gonna have to go in blind, since no detector is available now. Judging from what Phillips said, the controller isn't that far but fairly difficult to reach. I'll have to rely on you to guide me there, Teal'c."

"As you have said before, O'Neill, we are sitting ducks."

Jack finally smiled before turning serious again. "We can't afford to be hurt or dead at the moment."

He took a deep breath. "Teal'c, help me get rid of the communication cables on my suit."

The Jaffa raised his eyebrow. "You will not be able to communicate with anyone."

"I know," Jack said grimly. "But hopefully, the DX won't be able to detect us either."

//And our friends won't know of our fate,// Jack thought darkly. The sudden memory of him stranded in Iraq came rushing back. No one had helped him get out then and he wondered if it happened again, would he be able to repeat the same effort.

*********************************

Daniel sank to his knees, cold sweat running over his body. The tunnel had turned depressingly darker and he wondered if his rising fear was the first indication of impending claustrophobia.

He took a deep breath, calming himself. He did not hear Sha're's footsteps, and he briefly wondered if she had stopped chasing him.

"Green light," he whispered. "Follow the green light. Right."

He pushed himself up and started running again.

**********************************

The two men moved swiftly and stealthily, like shadows among the rocks.

One was a black-ops General, the other the chosen warrior of Abydos. It was with good reason that they were called 'demons' and at the moment, they needed to fulfill the reputations they had been given.

Jack's idea to strip them bare of any communication and detector devices had worked. They had been moving rapidly without any significant disturbance from the DX.

The robots had caught them several times and detected them through movements and heat sensors, but missed them since Jack kept on blasting rocks nearby, outmaneuvering the sensors. It was a good thing that not only he and Teal'c moved incredibly fast and unpredictable, the dead and dying bodies had helped in extinguishing their heat distinction, and the leftover mist confused the robots.

Finally, Teal'c stopped.

"This way, down here," he whispered.

Jack took a quick peek at the deep well and without hesitation jumped in.

********************************

Light.

Sound.

//Human sounds!//

"Martouf!" Daniel yelled. "Somebody!"

But the sounds...

They were sobs. *Dying* sobs.

Ignoring his gut instinct's sudden alarm, Daniel punched his radio button and screamed, "I got them! Hell, Ferretti, I got them!"

//"Doc! Stay!"//

But it was too late.

Daniel could not stop himself. His feet felt suddenly detached from his brain and he rushed headlong to the opening.

And stopped dead.

//"The life signs have disappeared, I don't know what happened."//

Daniel opened his mouth but only heard a strange sound come from it.

//"Doc?"//

He recognized the suit.

Martouf.

Lying immobile. Blood all over.

And there were almost a dozen others.

Dying. Dead.

Bloodied.

//"Doc? Answer me! It'll take a while before I can get to your location. Please report!"//

A sudden loss of air left Daniel feeling suffocated causing him to breathe heavily and rapidly.

"No... It can't be..." he gulped. Martouf's suit. It looked... He glanced quickly, and found the helmet still rolling a few feet away from the body.

He took a step forward.

The world slowed while his own heartbeat had suddenly grown louder and louder. Gray fog rushed before his eyes and he opened his mouth to gasp, only to be paralyzed with a sudden numbness all over his body.

His eyes locked with Martouf's eyes. Wide and lifeless.

Deep *inside* the helmet.

*********************************

Jack turned on his small flashlight, and realized that they were completely alone. He rushed to the large controller device and stared at the panel.

"Jesus. These aren't just for controlling the DX!" Jack cursed.

"What is it, O'Neill?"

Jack pointed at the small monitors. "Missile controller. Communication relay. Wait!"

//Communication relay?//

He took a closer look.

"I'll be damned!" he exclaimed. "That's Maybourne's signal!"

"Turn off the robot's control, O'Neill."

Jack nodded and began working furiously. He glanced up looking dejected.

"It does not work?"

"The DX is off, but there's another missile due to explode soon."

"You cannot turn it off?"

"It's locked."

There was a very strange expression on Jack's face and the Jaffa looked warily at him.

"Here." Jack took something from an emergency box near the panel. There were several unused suits inside. "You're fine to use the communicator again. Go back. Now."

"O'Neill, we are supposed to stay together."

"I..."

"You should wear one of these devices as well."

Jack swallowed. "No. Maybe it's better if I don't."

"O'Neill, are you planning to chase your enemy? Maybourne? Is that why you do not want to wear this?"

Jack looked as if he were in pain. "I *have* to do this, Teal'c."

"We can do this together."

Jack bit his lip thoughtfully, and punched a communication button.

"Daniel?"

***************************

A noise.

Familiar sound.

Something sharply penetrated Daniel's paralyzed mind.

//Jack!//

He gasped and scrambled for his radio.

//Jack! Jack!//

A shrieking yell made him jump, his fingers missing the radio. He turned so abruptly that he lost his balance.

And there was Sha're. Running swiftly toward him with rage in her eyes.

Daniel screamed and rolled his body in reflex, only to encounter a sudden nothingness. A wide gap. And his body plunged down.

************************

"Ferretti?"

//"Sir!"//

"Something's happened!" Jack said in panic. "Daniel doesn't answer my call! Where is he?"

//"Actually, Sir..."//

"He's not with you," Jack hissed. "Goddamn it. Where is he?"

//"He's looking for Martouf, and I've been chasing him, Sir."//

"Why can't you keep an eye on him?"

//"I'm sorry, Sir... But the refugees are kind of spread out. We don't have many men, and not much time."//

"I'll send Teal'c to help you." Jack broke the communication. He caught Teal'c and handed him a detector. "Follow this light without delay. You must help your people to safety. It's your priority. We don't have much time."

Teal'c took a deep breath. "You obviously expect this, O'Neill. Very well. I know my priority. I trust you to be able to find the mother ship."

Jack smiled. "I already have. Maybourne's inside it now."

Teal'c raised his eyebrows. He said quietly, "Take care of yourself, warrior O'Neill."

Jack shook his hand. "It has been honor to serve with you, Teal'c." However, instead of releasing Teal'c's hand, he clenched it tightly, finally letting the Jaffa see the desperate anxiety in his eyes.

"If it's possible, please save Daniel first."

Teal'c's eyes turned soft.

"Please." Jack swallowed and tried to smile. "He is precious to me."

The Jaffa nodded.

***************************

His muscles screamed in protest, and his head was pounding severely.

//Jack... Must reach for Jack,// Daniel thought frantically. But everything was so dark and cold.

A low growl was heard from...

//Above...//

Daniel looked up and finally could see the blurry shadow of Sha're's head, looking down on him.

He stilled, trying to freeze his body.

//Maybe if she thinks I'm dead...//

But the head was still there, as if eternally frozen in place. Looking at him.

And Daniel felt his heart plummet down to the ground when he heard the buzzing noise of Ferretti's voice through his radio piece, which was...

… located up above him.

****************************

With the DX now disabled, there was no danger for Jack to move by himself. Yet, he didn't know whether this was a better situation for him or not, since the silence made him more aware of the carnage before his eyes. A carnage that was to some extent his own doing.

He knew he had no time to wallow in his guilt at the moment.

According to the reading sign on the main panel, the mother ship was not far away from him. He expected it to be concealed somewhere beyond the rocks, because according to the topo reading, there was a wide-open field not far ahead.

The missile would launch in just a few more minutes.

Surely, it was enough time to destroy the ship.

But why was Maybourne still inside?

Despite himself, Jack knew that his curiosity and desperate urge to see Maybourne finally face to face had overcome his logic. He should be gone already. Leave it to work on itself. But...

//Damn.// He needed to see Maybourne and settled everything. Once and for all.

And he really wished that there would be no Goa'uld left alive in the battlefield after the nerve gas.

Finally, he reached the high point of the field. A spot where the battlefield would give way downward to sharp valleys, the place which according to the reading in the controller monitor was where Apophis' mother ship was located.

Jack took out his gun. Nothing alive was in the vicinity. Bodies of Apophis' men were spread about in an alarming number. It led to the edge of a cliff, and finally, to the huge ship located below.

Though Jack was impressed with the size, the ship lacked the sophistication of high technology. It was huge enough to transport a thousand soldiers, yet, it wasn't meant for interstellar flight. Somehow, it did not fit with what Jack had expected. The Goa'uld were a high-tech skilled race, and they were most definitely interstellar people. It was curious as to why the 'infected' Abydonians had not taken advantage. But then again, Apophis' main point of view was in the conquering of his own people; the notion of endangering other species out world might be the last thing he had in mind.

He moved quickly without a sound. The gas had eliminated everyone effectively, yet he wasn't sure about that. He took a quick look around, and finally saw an opening in the hull of the ship. Judging from the littering of contorted bodies all over, the gas must have leaked inside.

Jack glanced at his detector and frowned. The green light of Maybourne's signal had been moving before, but now it had stopped. It appeared that the man had reached his final destination and wasn't going anywhere.

He cautiously climbed in, laser gun pointing to every corner. More bodies were found, and it dawned on him that nobody inside was alive.

Except one.

The light in the detector guided him by way of a long hallway. Debris and dead bodies were found all over, a sign that a fierce fight or mass panic had happened a while ago. He slowed his movements, checking each and every hatch as he went most of them opened and unlocked. And no one was alive.

Finally, Jack reached the main ladder. According to his reading, Maybourne was directly above him.

He studied the closed hatch carefully. Despite his lack of communication line, he wasn't sure whether Maybourne was completely unable to detect him.

He never expected that his feet would connect with something smoldering that gave out a tiny explosion.

Jack stumbled back, laser gun firing, expecting a cavalry of men to come rushing at him.

Instead, the upper-floor hatch opened abruptly, revealing a familiar face.

"Jesus, O'Neill. What took you so long?"

Maybourne.

******************************

The noises from his radio above had stopped, and Daniel wondered if it meant the radio had finally conked out or something terrible had happened to the SG soldiers.

He shivered violently.

The image of Martouf's bloody, bodiless head seemed to relentlessly be appearing behind his eyelids.

//What had happened?// he wondered. These people died violently. As if some sort of beast had gnawed on them and torn them apart, limb from limb.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

"It's a hallucination," he whispered to himself. But he knew that it wasn't. It was as real as the death of his parents. Lying lifeless in the middle of the Guatemalan jungle. Bodies ripped apart. Too unrealistically gothic to a five-year-old Daniel Jackson.

He had believed that it was a dream then. He had believed it for a long time. Maybe up till now, if he admitted it to himself.

But now, after seeing Martouf's death, he finally knew that it was real.

It had happened over twenty years ago. But to Daniel, it finally happened now.

"Oh Lord," he whispered again, unable to stop himself. Then he wept.

He must have made more than enough noise, because the next thing he knew, a curious sound was coming from above.

Feeling suddenly numb and devoid of any fear, Daniel turned his face up. There was something familiar about the sound Sha're was making.

It was...

A purr.

******************************

Amazing.

There was no malice, surprise or darkness on Maybourne's face.

He looked...*pleased*.

"Hands up." Jack pointed his laser gun at him.

"Tsk." Maybourne smiled mockingly. "Come on up. I've been expecting you." Then he disappeared from Jack's sight.

"Maybourne!"

"Come on up, O'Neill. Don't bother pointing that gun. I know you won't kill me," Maybourne's voice drifted away.

Anger, confusion, suspicion and a curious feeling of *hurt* forced Jack to hurl his body up. The agony of being betrayed in Iraq, Daniel's near death, Sam's torture, and the harm over his sons blacked out any other thoughts. Once his feet landed, he rushed at Maybourne, slamming the man's body into a nearby panel.

"I should just shoot you," Jack hissed, pushing the tip of his laser gun up to the General's nose. "JESUS! I really, really want to shoot you!"

"But you won't," Maybourne smiled mockingly. "What?" he taunted. "Do you want to hit me?"

"Don't tempt me," Jack's voice was low and dangerous.

"Oooo... I like it when you get like this. Very stimulating."

Jack pulled the man up and gave him a satisfying jab to his stomach. Maybourne dropped, doubling up in pain. In spite of that, he was laughing.

Jack quickly stepped back unable to trust himself, and pointed his gun at Maybourne's head. First thing first, he needed to clarify everything before... He squeezed his fingers slightly around his gun.

"Why are you still here?"

Maybourne coughed. "What, go back to Colorado Springs? Oh, please. With you here, it's obvious that prison is waiting for me there."

Jack looked at him thoughtfully. Despite his rage, he saw something about Maybourne that made him uneasy.

"You don't seem surprised to see me," he said.

"Of course. I would have been very disappointed if you hadn't survived the Iraqi fiasco. A situation like that is a piece of cake for guys like us." Maybourne lifted himself slowly, all the while smiling despite the pain etched on his face.

//Guys like *us*?// To Jack it sounded so wrong. //What the hell is he up to?//

"Why?" Jack finally asked him.

"*Why*?" Maybourne mimicked him. "You know, 'why' between us is a loaded question."

Jack stared sharply at him. "Indeed."

"It'll take a full day to answer."

"The missile will launch in four minutes."

"I know," Maybourne laughed.

With a sinking heart, Jack admitted to himself that his adversary looked completely too pleased for Jack's liking. He wondered if the man had gone mad.

"I have to take you back with me. Regretfully, *alive*."

"No, thank you."

"What, you're gonna stay here and wait for the missile to tear your body apart?"

"Tsk, stupid you." Exasperated, Maybourne shook his head. "You don't do your homework well, O'Neill. The missile isn't aimed here."

"What do you mean?"

"You think this is the only mother ship?"

Jack gulped. "There's another one?"

"Uh-huh." Maybourne beamed like a little kid.

Jack stared, astonishment and uncertainty in his eyes. He finally remembered the coding on the missile lock. It had differed with the coding for *this* ship. //How could I have missed that?//

"I don't understand you, Maybourne."

The beaming face suddenly shut down like a candle being snuffed out.

"Yeah. You never even tried, *Jack*."

They stared at one another for a long moment.

"Well? Start talking, then." Jack could no longer stand the deafening silence and the unreadable emotions etched deeply on Maybourne's face.

Yet, instead of answering him, Maybourne cocked his head to one side. "Listen," he said.

Of course Jack didn't need to listen to figure out what Maybourne was trying to say. He was already aware of the time ticking by. Four minutes was up.

Suddenly, the ground shook and both men stumbled to keep their balance. It was over quickly.

"Ha!" Maybourne laughed. "Finished! Now it's only us!"

Jack decided that enough was enough. He took out his electronic handcuffs.

"No, no, no," Maybourne shook his head. "I told you, it's useless. I can still destroy you even if I am unarmed."

Jack froze.

"Take a look." Maybourne pointed to a spot directly above him. "Now that you're here, all I have to do is punch that button and we're both fried. Though I don't mind being dead alongside my dear old friend, I doubt your children would agree with me."

"What do you want?"

"Can I ask you a question first?"

Hesitating for a moment, Jack finally lowered his gun a bit. His curiosity and a strange, unfamiliar emotion in him had won. "Shoot."

"Do you like me?"

"What!?"

"A simple question. Do you?"

There was a flash of emotion on Maybourne's face, but it just as suddenly was gone. Whatever it was, Jack realized that their fate was dependent upon his answer.

"It depends on at what point in time. I liked you just fine when we were still in the Academy. I don't like you at all, now."

Jack did not know what to expect, but the sadness on Maybourne's face completely surprised him.

"Then how come you never befriended me before?"

"*Excuse* me?"

The man's eyes suddenly turned wistful. "Why? I tried so *hard* for you to *notice* me. But you weren't interested in making friends with me."

Strange. This conversation felt like a bad drama being played in high school. Jack wondered if they both had truly gone mad.

"What do you mean? I befriended you just fine, then."

"No, you didn't."

"Maybourne-"

"*Harry*," Maybourne corrected quickly. His eyes looked even sadder than before. "They all liked you, you know? I never understood why they all liked *you* but not *me*."

"Look, this is getting ridiculous."

"Oh yeah. I expected that you would think of this as ridiculous. Tell me, Jack, why weren't you?"

"May--, *Harry*, stop this! You harmed my family and my friends!"

"I can see the confusion in your eyes, Jack. Come on. You want me to answer your 'whys'. All you need to do is answer my questions first."

//It's a trap!// Jack screamed inside. //Don't fall for this//.

Yet, something stirred within his heart. Something frighteningly coming awake. A memory of some kind. Maybourne had goaded him to remember their old days, and he couldn't stop himself.

Young Harry Maybourne. Ambitious. Eager. Arrogant.

Lonely.

"You were a strange young man back then," Jack said softly.

"Is that why you didn't want to get close to me?"

"I never thought it mattered so much to you."

There was a strange gleam in Maybourne's eyes. "Oh it mattered, Jack. It mattered the most. You see I was trying so hard to be your friend. Remember that?"

Yes. Jack finally admitted to himself. He remembered that. Maybourne kept asking to be included in his life. Study groups. Assignment partners. Roommates.

*Girlfriends*.

"Yes," Jack swallowed. The conversation started to frighten him.

"Remember my girlfriend, Colleen?"

"Yes."

"I gave her to you. Remember?"

Jack was silent. Of course he remembered Colleen. But Maybourne's statement puzzled him. Wasn't that girl the reason their friendship, or whatever it was before, had been destroyed?

"Wasn't that enough to get your attention? Was I a bad person back then?"

Feeling his throat constrict for some odd reason, Jack shook his head. "You were strange. And you were trying too hard. It scared me."

A look of bewilderment crossed Maybourne's face.

"Why were you scared?"

"Because-"

Jack stopped. //Because of *what*?//

What had been happening back then? There was *something* that had compelled him at that time. Something that had made him swear to keep himself as far away as possible from Harry Maybourne.

//What had it been?//

Understanding dawned on Maybourne.

"Ah," he finally smiled. Yet, the sadness was still there. "You *knew* that I had a big crush on you, didn't you? Was that why I scared you?"

//Wait a minute//, Jack gasped. //Maybourne? *Crush*?// That was something so overwhelming it staggered Jack violently. //Am I in a twilight zone? What the hell is that man talking about?//

"For Jesus Christ, it was normal for guys our age," Maybourne continued, oblivious to the sudden draining of color in Jack's face. "Those crushes usually would gone quickly, but the friendship would sometimes remain. I'm disappointed that you're that narrow-minded, Jack."

Jack felt his heart thundering. He felt like his world had suddenly turned upside down. What was real and what was true, now?

Jesus.

Had Maybourne become like this because of...*him*?

Had his hate for this man been completely unjustifiable?

"What I'm so disappointed about was that you treated me like a trash afterwards." Maybourne's sad eyes gradually turned into another complex mirror of emotion.

Anger was the most visible.

//Did I?// Jack looked at the man in front of him who had suddenly turned as alien as the Abydonians. //Did I treat him like trash?//

//Did he scare me because...I *knew*?//

"You know, once you disliked me, they all did too." Maybourne gave him a grim smile. "Nobody wanted to be my friend anymore. Ever."

Jack shook his head violently. "No. That isn't true. It wasn't like that."

"Oh, what's true then?"

"I don't know." It was strange, but Jack realized that he sounded pleading. And at the moment, he felt like he should.

"Liar!" Maybourne bellowed suddenly. "I hated you then, O'Neill. I hated you with all my heart! Who were you to judge me like that?"

//Jesus, this is getting out of control!// "No, listen to me..."

"I stopped listening to you a long time ago. My God, O'Neill. You don't deserve them!"

Jack stopped himself. "What things do I not deserve?"

"Their friendship! Their respect! Honor! Career! You're... My God ... You're *stupid*! I'm way smarter than you. You *don't* deserve it. You don't deserve any of the things I want!"

"Including Stargate?"

"NO! You don't get it, do you? It's not the Stargate. It's not the wealth. It's *this*!" Maybourne spread both of his arms widely. His eyes turned maniacal.

"Outer world! New world! A new place to belong!"

"Jesus, Maybourne. You're crazy!"

"Nobody wants to be my ally. No one respects me enough. I can try again in new worlds."

Oh God.

Finally, Jack understood. A sudden wave of sadness paralyzed him.

"Do you get it?" Maybourne looked at him with madness in his eyes.

"Yes," Jack croaked. His throat tightened painfully, and to his surprise, stings bit the back of his eyes. "Goddamn it, Maybourne."

"You think I'm crazy, huh?"

"Yes! What do you expect? Being a king in a people less world? You eliminated them all!"

"I can try to find them somewhere in this planet. I have time. And a ship."

"Maybourne, this is insane!"

"It's Harry."

"Harry."

The quietness of Jack's voice made both men lose their remaining energy. They stared silently...solemnly at one another. Jack studied his enemy. Ex-friend. Lifelong rival.

At last, he understood Maybourne completely. The man had gone insane? Maybe. But it wasn't the man's madness that brought understanding to Jack. No. He understood him based upon more than just an artificial conclusion.

It's just about *belonging*. The man in front of him was… Lonely.

Maybourne gazed at him with expectations.

"I'm sorry," Jack finally whispered, pity had overcome his anger. He truly meant it.

The smile etched on Maybourne's lips was genuine and sincere. It was the first honest, friendly smile the man had given him in their twenty or more years of acquaintance with each other.

"I knew you would understand," Maybourne whispered back. "Now, what will you do to me?"

******************************

"Ferretti!" Jack plugged Maybourne's communicator into his suit.

//"Sir?"//

"Is there news on Daniel, yet?"

//"He's no longer answering our call, Sir. But his signal broke off somewhere. Sir, the remaining bomb will go off soon. We have no time to round up the remaining inhabitants. Let alone try to find Doctor Jackson. I'm torn with what I should do next."//

"I'll find Daniel, you go back and round them up."

//"Thank you, Sir. But please, hurry."//

It was instinct that took him deep inside the underground maze. Oh, he could mention that the detector had helped. But to be truthful, he did not pay too much attention to the green, blinking light in his hand.

Somehow, he just knew.

He finally reached a turning point, a location where he eventually needed to recheck his decision to rely on the detector.

//Go right?//

//"Sir?"// Ferretti's voice sounded frantic.

"Yes."

//"It'll go off in ten seconds!"//

Jack cursed. Ten seconds was too short.

//And if Danny had found several Abydonians stranded out there...//

Jack shivered when he suddenly realized that Daniel was the kind of person who would not hesitate to lend his helmet if he thought it was necessary.

//And if he isn't aware of the bomb going off...//

Ten seconds.

****************************

The purring sound was suddenly joined by other sounds.

Disembodied voices.

Daniel carefully lifted his head, trying to hear more clearly. He wasn't that successful, considering the helmet he was wearing.

There were shadows and movement above, and the darkness was not helping him. But Daniel was certain. There was more than one Goa'uld joining Sha're.

They were the ones who annihilated those bodies above. Including Martouf.

//Beasts//, Daniel shivered.

A trickle of dust fell over Daniel's back. One of them was bending to take a closer look on him.

"...alive?"

Daniel tilted his head higher. Finally, he could hear some conversation. Yet, the low volume, as well as the disembodied voices, had obscured any distinction sufficient for him to track it.

There was a rise of voices.

//They're having an argument,// he thought.

"...dead!"

"NO!"

The last shout came from Sha're. Daniel knew it. He knew it at the same time that he became aware there were sounds of violence above, and Sha're had started to shriek again.

Daniel tried hard not to give in to his impulse to jump in. It was not clear whether Sha're was in trouble, and he knew he had nothing much to gain except endangering himself. However, he prayed desperately that there were still small parts of humanity left in Sha're and that she could handle whatever it was she was facing at the moment. A tiny ray of hope flared in his chest.

Maybe it was still possible to cure Sha're.

But he had hoped too soon, because the shriek turned into a scream of terror, suddenly followed by the loud sound of a body hitting the ground near him.

Daniel jumped.

"Sha're!" he shouted.

There was someone! They threw them down.

Daniel frantically tried to reach a stone, anything large enough with which to defend himself.

But...

"Jesus, it's you!" Daniel gasped when he recognized that the sound of pain and anger from the body near him was Sha're's. For a moment, he felt relief, simply out of the sentimentality that this Goa'uld was familiar enough to him.

Only to realize again that she had almost killed him before.

*******************************

When the mist blasted at the outskirt of the town, Jack had half expected the underground tunnel to be bathed in it. Yet, it didn't happen. Apparently the gas took a while before penetrating therefore, he still had some hope.

The green light was blinking furiously.

"Daniel?" he called.

Then he rolled instinctively when the first blast of a laser hit a couple of inches above his head. He quickly dragged himself behind a large stone and shot back.

"JACK!" Daniel's scream sounded hysterical.

//He's *alive*! Thank God!// Jack shut his eyes in thanks for a moment.

But then, the laser blasts were getting too close.

"JACK! OH GOD! Answer me!"

There was something strange in Daniel's voice. He was near, in fact, close to him. But...

"Where the hell are you?!"

"Down here! Oh God! Jack! Jack!"

There were only two of them. One of the Goa'uld was running toward him, a staff weapon pointed at him. It only took a second for him to hit the first man right between his eyes, and then the next two seconds to hit the second man's stomach. Both fell. Lifeless.

"Daniel! I'm coming to get you!"

"NO! NO! Stay away!"

//What the hell?//

There was an area of the tunnel considerably darker than the rest. It did not fool Jack's trained eyes, because a spot as dark as that could mean only one thing. It was a hole.

Crawling quickly, Jack peeked down which raised an angry, inhuman scream, followed closely by the powerful throw of a stone. It hit his helmet with a loud 'thunk'.

Jack shouted in surprise.

"Jack!" Daniel sounded hysterical. "Jack! You okay?"

"Who's that person with you down there?"

"It's Sha're! Jack, are you okay? Answer me, damn it!"

//Sha're? Isn't that the girl Daniel wants to bring back with him?//

Jack cursed himself before he answered, "Yes! Listen! I have some bad news for you! The nerve gas has already gone off above. If we want to get Sha're back to the

'Gate, I need to find a suit for her."

"Martouf's suit is nearby! He's dead!"

//Dead?//

"Hang on, buddy. I'll get it."

"Jack," Daniel's voice sounded calmer now. "I...I'm not sure about Sha're..."

Jack did not have time to listen. All he knew was that in just a moment, the mist would start to penetrate and he could not afford to lose anybody.

He ran around the corner, stopping abruptly in horror.

"Jesus," he whispered. He swallowed the sudden bile that rose in his throat. Efficiently, he released the bloodied head from within the helmet, letting the head roll away.

"Daniel? I'm gonna throw the helmet down. Try to convince Sha're to wear it, okay?"

"Jack," Daniel pleaded in a hoarse voice. "She's Goa'uld."

Jack clutched the helmet tightly to his chest, feeling his body turning cold.

"What?"

"I'm...I'm afraid she won't release me."

"What the *hell* are you talking about?"

Jack started to move back toward the hole, but it seemed as if Daniel had predicted his movement.

"NO! NO! Stay back! Stay back!"

"Daniel, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Jack," Daniel answered breathlessly. "She doesn't exactly want to hurt me. Apparently, she just wants to *keep* me."

Jack's mind had now gone completely blank. What should he do?

"Daniel," he said. "I'm going to try to get closer. Do you think it's possible for me to do this? Nothing will endanger you?"

There was a long moment of silence below. Finally, Jack heard Daniel sigh.

"You said that the bomb had gone off above."

"Yes," Jack answered puzzlingly.

"Do you think...how...how long before it will penetrate here?"

"Why are you asking, Daniel?"

There was a very, very deep sadness in his friend's voice when he answered, "Maybe we should just wait."

"Daniel, are you crazy?"

"Jack," his voice turned into a husky whisper. "Somehow, she found a laser gun. Martouf's maybe. She doesn't know how to use it, but I'm afraid she'll figure it out soon."

"Daniel, I'm coming down."

"No, please. Please. Please. Please." A small sob was heard. "She pointed it above, Jack. At *you* when you appeared."

"Daniel..."

"I can't risk it, Jack. I'm so afraid for you."

"Listen to me, Doctor Jackson. I'm good at shooting, okay? I can try to paralyze her."

"No. It doesn't matter. Let her die."

Jack was stunned with disbelief. This was not Daniel. Not Jack's gentle Daniel. But there was no mistaking the tone in his voice. It was pure, one hundred percent Daniel determination, even though it was accompanied by deep sadness and despair.

Whatever it was, it came because of Daniel's worry over Jack's safety.

Jack could not let such a monstrous decision happen to his friend. It would be too hard to live with.

"Don't, Daniel. You'll be sorry for the rest of your life. Let me do it. Trust me, okay?"

"Jack..." //I love you.// Jack could hear the unspoken words.

"Trust me, Daniel," Jack gasped. God. //Don't let me...// Jesus. He felt the first tears traitorously run down his cheeks. "I..."

//What the hell am I going to say?//

"Will you move as far away as possible from her, Daniel?"

"You're going to do it?"

"Yes."

"Fine." A brief pause. "I'm on the right side from your point of view. Be careful."

Jack crawled silently, and very, very carefully peeked in the hole. He had made sure that neither Sha're nor Daniel realized that he was now right above them. No one noticed him.

The hole was dark, but not dark enough to blind him totally from seeing their movements. It appeared that it wasn't too deep. If he could stretch enough, he would be able to reach Daniel's hands.

And there was Sha're. God, she was beautiful. And terrifying too.

Jack raised his gun, took aim and...

A bloodcurdling scream informed him that he had satisfactorily hit her shoulder.

"Daniel!" Jack rushed and bent his body deep into the opening. "Reach for my hand! Quickly!"

He felt Daniel's fingers start to squeeze his, when a piercing pain tore powerfully along his side. Something sharp and extremely painful hit him hard. //Sha're//.

He yelled in pain and shock, at the same time hearing Daniel scream, "NO!"

"Daniel!" //Oh god!// His numb fingers had lost Daniel's!

Something below flashed at the corner of his eye. //Danger!// But as he helplessly awaited his fate, he heard the sickening sound of something heavy falling down combined with a gurgled choke.

"DANIEL!"

The choke sounded ghastly.

"DANIEL!"

Ignoring the burning pain on his side, Jack started to slide down, frantic to find Daniel when his fingers suddenly connected with Daniel's gloved hands.

"Oh God, you're safe!" Jack said in paralyzing relief. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Daniel's voice was subdued. "Are you?"

"I think so. Sha're?"

"Let me up, Jack," Daniel said quietly.

Jack realized with sudden terror that the choking sound had come from Sha're. Daniel had done something to her.

"Don't think, Jack. It was better her than you," Daniel's voice was turning depressive.

Who was he to argue? Jack much preferred Daniel than her. He squeezed Daniel's hands and pulled him up with all his strength, ignoring the screaming protest of his muscles, and the biting pain in his side. Daniel did not waste the opportunity; he threw one of his legs over, reaching the edge of the hole, and swung himself finally to safety.

Jack groaned with relief, but his face quickly turned back to dismay when he realized that Daniel's helmet was broken.

"Your helmet!" Death was just around the corner. He crawled to his knees, dragging up a heavily breathing Daniel, and frantically pulled off his friend's helmet.

"Take it off! Goddamn it! Now!"

Daniel's eyes were wide and very blue, and he just followed Jack's desperate instructions automatically.

With only Daniel's safety on his mind, Jack slid open his own helmet and took it off. "Put it on! Quickly!"

"Jack..."

Maybe it was the relief, or the leftover of an adrenaline high. Or the exotic, liberating nakedness of bare heads without helmets that made them completely forget themselves. But whatever it was, when Daniel reached for him and swallowed his mouth in a fierce, bruising kiss, Jack returned it just as powerfully.

A sound almost similar to a keening wail broke from Daniel at the same time both his hands clenched Jack's shoulders tightly, digging hard into his bones. Daniel rubbed his body hungrily over the General's trying to crawl inside Jack's body if at all possible.

"jack...jack...jack..." Daniel mumbled frantically, alternating between kissing, biting and ravishing his friend's mouth.

"Oh, baby," Jack moaned, completely losing himself in the assault. He bit Daniel's lips back, before freezing when his sense of smell finally took over and sent alarm signals to his brain.

He pushed Daniel violently away, ignoring the sudden hurt in Daniel's eyes.

"THE GAS!" he yelled, desperately pushing his helmet down onto Daniel's head.

Hurt completely forgotten, Daniel shouted, "What about you?!"

Jack didn't even flinch at the still dripping blood running at the edge of Martouf's helmet. He pushed it on his head, speedily locking it in place. Then, he checked on Daniel's and finally pulled his friend up.

"Come on," he said softly. "We're going home, now."

*********************************

EPILOGUE

Bradley O'Neill found himself sitting silently in the corner. Thinking.

He was convinced that something extremely terrible had had happened while his dad and Daniel were gone. When his father and Daniel had come home, there were shadows in their eyes, and they both walked as if carrying a heavy burden. It wasn't fatigue or hurt. It was much more than that. It was something that had permanently scarred them forever.

Something reminiscent of *guilt*.

He had seen this before in his father. The time when his mother had died. His father had closed down and simply rejected everything. But eventually, he had come out fine. He was a survivor after all. Though Brad desperately wished that this would never happen again, there was a confidence in him that if it did, his father would defeat it. He was a hero, a strong man. He could overcome it.

But he wasn't so confident about Daniel.

Brad remembered that he shivered when he finally caught Daniel's eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes had suddenly turned old and dull. Yet, several times, he had seen a new fire in them. Something fierce and obsessive. He had never before seen such an emotion in Daniel's eyes. Daniel's eyes were gentle, and the warmth there had been more like banking, soothing embers.

Brad did not know what these fires meant, because it wasn't exactly anger, while passion was too simple to be the right word. All he knew was that it appeared whenever Daniel was looking at someone in particular.

His father.

It took a while for him to understand what it meant. He had dreadfully thought that Daniel was angry with his father, but then realized it was an altogether different emotion. He could only guess, but the only thing his sensitive heart believed was that it was a fire of fierce possessiveness. A fire of desperation to embrace and to protect the only lifeline he had left, the fire of conviction to do any and everything possible to cling to what was there to keep.

What had *happened* out there?

Despite their hard work to cover their distress from the children, Brad could glimpse the intense emotional breakdown from both men. He remembered clearly that one night he heard them arguing. Arguing as in fighting. The sounds were muffled, so thank God he was the only one who was aware of it. He remembered that he had slowly left his room, only to realize that both Daniel and his father were inside the master bedroom.

"Don't you *want* to know?" He had heard Daniel ask in an angry tone. "Don't you want to know *why* I did it?"

Brad did not hear his father's reply.

"It matters to *me* that you know *why*."

"I know, Daniel," his father finally answered. "You don't have to announce it to me. I know. And I accept it. It's *you* who can't accept it."

"Damn right, I can't. I was *glad*, Jack. I still am."

"You're not a monster, Daniel."

"Aren't I? I chose Satan for you, and I'm glad for it. What does that make me?"

"You're not."

Brad had recoiled from his spot. What had Daniel done?

Even until this day, Brad didn't know whether his father and Daniel had slept together that night. The fight and the heartbreaking conversation were too deep, too hurtful, too angry and too intense to have been resolved by simple understanding and backslapping. Judging from what Daniel had said, he had done a terrible thing for his father, and it seemed like he was torn between expecting some kind of payment from his father or condemning himself to hell.

And what about his father?

His silence and blank eyes when he thought he was alone were enough to convey that he had his own demon inside. Demons he had had hid from them all, including Daniel.

"Robinson Crusoe trapped in hell," his father kept saying in a sad smile when he was being asked. He always refused to explain what he meant.

Brad had wondered when all hell would break loose and Daniel would be gone from their life for good.

But amazingly, it didn't happen.

Instead, his father and Daniel had grown even closer. Oh, they still had that *friendship* aura. The unsatisfied look of longing still haunted Daniel from time to time; a knowledge good enough for Brad to know that they still weren't lovers. And his father was still oblivious as ever, though Brad curiously had caught him studying

Daniel secretly with an unfamiliar gleam in his eyes.

If he had any doubt that Daniel wouldn't be here for them forever, he was proven wrong. Both men, and the younger boys, obviously knew that Daniel belonged here.

No one, not even Jack O'Neill himself, could make Daniel go if such a notion were to ever come across. Even questioning it sounded ridiculous. It was strange and funny, come to think of it. But it was all so natural, as if fate itself had placed Daniel in the O'Neill household and no one even imagined challenging it.

Despite his inner doubt, Brad did not dare to think otherwise for fear it would be jinxed.

And two weeks after their return, it looked as if his wish was coming true. His father had back his old loving and carefree attitude, while the gentle innocence Brad had thought lost in Daniel forever reemerged. He knew that the shadows were still there. But it seemed that they had reconciled.

//But are they really?// he asked himself worriedly.

A sound of clapping hands broke his reverie. He turned to look at the small bar in their dining room.

His father's barbecue party guests were surrounding Daniel. He was tossing and turning the bottles, then pouring the drinks into glasses with such skill that no one could doubt that he was once a professional bartender. His audience was applauding him enthusiastically, while Paul and the twins were 'oohing' and 'aahing' the performance.

Brad smiled. How the hell had that happened? A few months ago, this guy was a drop-dead gorgeous man of leisure that people always mistook as a shallow guy and a mere sex symbol. And now? He suddenly turned out to be a geek--maybe as geeky as his younger twin brothers--and a wannabe soldier who had done something dreadful that he himself could not imagine. Brad couldn't describe how that conflicting imagery could emerge harmoniously in the man. One moment, Daniel looked as dull, as asexual and as innocent as any geek would look but the next, he would suddenly transform into a man oozing irresistible sex appeal. Like now.

No wonder everyone found him incredibly attractive. He was too 'multifacetedly' mysterious.

A familiar step behind him announced his father's presence.

Jack had noticed his oldest son sitting quietly. Too quiet for his liking.

"Don't tell me you're not enjoying the party?" he asked him.

"Da-ad, these people are jarheads," Brad whined. It was true that up until this moment, most of the ones attending the party were Jack's subordinates.

"Since when are you into eggheads?" Jack scowled, remembering Tim.

"I don't feel too beautiful at the moment," Brad said truthfully. His hair was getting too long to keep the style he was fancying, and his worry over his father and Daniel had him sporting acne.

Jack laughed deeply, his son's vanity was just simply too funny for him.

Just before Brad was about to give him some smartass remark, the doorbell rang. To his delight, his son jumped and opened it.

"Sam!"

"Well, well." Jack grinned broadly to see her with the huge Jaffa in tow. It was rather amusing to see these two become an item despite the possibility of trouble in the future, but right now he just enjoyed seeing Sam flustered.

"You must be Teal'c," Brad said cheekily.

Teal'c studied him with interest, and gave Brad his rare smile. His voice sounded disembodied because of the translator. "Are you the warrior son of O'Neill?"

"Warrior son?" Brad's eyes widened with amusement, unfazed by Teal'c's strange voice. With all things happened to him and his brothers lately, nothing seemed to surprise him any longer. He just simply accepted that this man must be a part of his father's 'secret of the worlds'. "Oh, yeah, I like the sound of that."

Teal'c turned to Jack, and could not conceal the wonder and amazement reflected in his eyes. "I am surprised that your son is so handsome."

Sam and Brad laughed, seeing Jack scowl darkly.

"You seem to collect beautiful men most successfully, O'Neill," Teal'c nodded toward Daniel's direction.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Huh!" Then he called his other sons over.

"This is Charlie, Shane and Paul. Guys, say hi to Teal'c."

Instead of 'hi', the twins only mouthed 'wow', while Paul stared at him wide-eyed, his neck craning up painfully. Jack wondered what image was pictured in the kids' minds at the moment. But then again, he never underestimated his young sons perceptiveness.

"They're impressed with you," Jack said merrily. "Nice, big voice."

"Yeah," Brad said half breathless. "You're...*big*!" Then he giggled helplessly.

Of course Jack knew to *what* big his son was referring. He glared at Brad and looked apologetically at Sam whose cheeks had reddened.

"I wonder if it fits," Shane grinned as evilly as his oldest brother. It was still amazing that the translator device had not made them flinch even a little bit.

"GUYS!" Jack bellowed.

"You need to stretch a lot," Charlie said sympathetically to Sam, yet could not conceal the mirth of laughter in his eyes.

"All of you get lost," Jack bit his lip. "Sam, Teal'c, just leave this perimeter at once. Try to keep as far away as possible from these brats, okay?"

Teal'c looked questioningly back and forth between Sam and the three giggling boys.

"Don't ask," Sam said to Teal'c in a low voice. The fact that she was trying hard to keep herself from laughing convinced Teal'c that no harm was meant.

Yet, surprisingly, Paul threw himself at Sam's feet. "Mommy!"

"Ummm..." Jack saw the question in Teal'c's face. "I can explain."

Sam, eyes turned soft, took the little boy into her arms, cooing.

"What is 'mommy'?" Teal'c asked.

"It means 'mother'. You don't know that word?" Charlie asked back curiously.

"I thought he only called Daniel 'mommy'." Jack turned to Brad.

His son looked thoughtful. "I wondered about that too. But I remember he once called *me* 'mommy'."

"When was that?"

"When I dressed up like a woman."

Sam looked delightful. "I think it's Paul's way of appreciating female beauty. Isn't it, Paul?"

"Yes," Paul nodded. "You're pretty."

"Danny isn't female," Jack said stubbornly.

"But he is a beauty," Sam responded.

"He calls Daniel Jackson, 'mommy'?" Teal'c asked even more curious, but stopped himself when Sam gave him a cross glare.

"Let's go and say hi to him," Paul pointed at Daniel.

The three of them, Sam, Teal'c and Paul walked over to the bar.

Charlie looked solemnly at his father. "It's a good sign, Dad."

"What's a good sign?"

"Brad only appreciates boys. Paul likes girls."

//Don't say it, don't say it,// but Jack couldn't help himself. "He likes Danny too."

"I think that makes Paul bisexual," Shane said seriously in agreement with his twin. Brad laughed hard.

"That's too early to decide," Jack scowled. "And what about you two?"

"We are a-sexual. Sex is a 'bleh' thing for us," Charlie replied.

"Naked bodies don't excite us," Shane continued in a very serious tone. He looked absolutely positive about his and his twin's opinion.

"Geeks," Brad murmured.

"Uh. Yeah, right." Jack scratched his head and thought that this conversation was way too dangerous for ten-year olds. He suddenly saw Ferretti and his team in the doorway and jumped quickly to rescue himself from his own sons.

"Ferretti! Good God, glad you could make it. Well, come along you men."

"Sir," they all answered in unison.

"We found this, Sir," Ferretti said quietly, showing a sad looking dog standing behind his feet. "It was stranded alone rather far away. I think it's yours."

Jack took Dobey inside and glanced at Ferretti. "How did you know he's ours?"

"There's a nametag, Sir." Ferretti tried to keep himself from smiling. Curiously, so were the other men. The major slowly bent down, patted Dobey's head and whispered, "Woof woof." The muffled laughter behind him did not help a thing.

Daniel, who was washing his hands in the kitchen, heard Jack whine, "I have got to change my ID password!"

He turned to see General Hammond, face still pale, sitting quietly with Janet. The General was a nice man, but it was obvious that he wasn't giving off the aura of equality like Jack was. Everybody stayed clear of him, mostly due to the awkwardness between superiors and subordinates. Sometimes Daniel found it amazing that to earn his subordinates' respect Jack did not require the aura of aloofness like most Generals did.

"How are you, Doctor Jackson?" Hammond asked him warmly.

"After all the traumas, I'm fine, Sir," Daniel answered honestly. He had terrible nightmares about Sha're and Martouf, but it did not haunt him as intense as he had expected. It surprised him a great deal.

"Then can I be sure that you're now permanent in SGC?"

"Yes," Daniel answered without hesitation. "I'm in too deep now, Sir. It's too late to back out."

"It's going to get messy soon." Hammond looked sad. "We don't want you to feel pressured into staying."

"I'm not, Sir." Daniel exchanged glances with Janet. "How messy is it going to be, Sir?"

"With the lose ends regarding Iraq, Maybourne's MIA, Stargate, and the Abydonian refugees? Very, Doctor Jackson."

"There's going to be a thorough investigation and not so transparent handling over the secretive situations," Janet said. "This is still far from over."

"You can have your own house, Doctor Jackson," suddenly Hammond changed his topic. "You're entitled to one, facilitated by the base."

Daniel found himself blushing furiously. He didn't know what to say. How was he to respond to this perceptive man? Did the offer mean that he disapproved of the *possibility* of his and Jack's relationship? He felt his heart sink.

"It's just an offer, Doctor," Hammond's voice was surprisingly gentle. Daniel caught his eyes, and saw warmth there. "Once in a while, we all need some private space."

Daniel was speechless. Could it be true? Hammond understanding their situation? A second house not to live in, but to get away too once in a while? It finally occurred to him that no matter what, the old General was already aware that he would never leave O'Neill's household, and that the offer of the house was just symbolic because it was the right thing to do. Or maybe, he was just simply offering a refuge.

Janet pretended not to hear anything.

"I'll think about it, Sir," Daniel gulped. He quickly stood, and nervously tried to get away.

He went to the back porch, and stood there. Alone. His heart hammering, cold sweat breaking out, he walked silently across the garden, and found himself standing behind the fence. He was thoroughly hidden from the view of the front porch. Here, he could finally see everything without being disturbed.

He saw Brad jumping with joy when a young, handsome man approached him. It took a while for him to realize that it was Tim. The punk. Apparently, his punk days were over. He had cut his hair in a military buzz, and he was dressed up nicely. Just from standing where he was, Daniel could plainly see how thoroughly in love with Brad the young man was. It made him smile.

It was funny to think that he was starting to identify himself with Tim. A very patient young man who loved Brad much more than Brad loved him. He had done everything, yet he had never tried to tie up and pressure Brad. And look what had happened. Brad willingly went to him. *Always* came back to him. Each times a little bit more in love than before. Surrendering to the inevitable that he could not live without Tim and eventually, he would love Tim as much as Tim loved him.

//When you love someone, just set them free...//

Daniel saw Paul running around chasing a small ball, then stumble violently to the ground. He wailed as if the world was falling down upon him. It took an effort for him to not run over and rescue the little boy, yet, he managed to stop himself because at that moment Brigadier General Jonathan O'Neill burst from the inside and quickly gathered Paul into his arms. Cooing and kissing him back to comfort.

Daniel felt his eyes sting.

Oh, he could not believe how his heart always felt as if it would burst at times like this. Jack was so wonderful, that Daniel wondered if love was adequate enough an emotion to describe what he intensely felt for this man.

He had gambled everything for him, including his sanity. For the first time in his life, he might have deliberately taken someone's life. He now had a demon inside him, a demon that kept coming back and haunting him. Reminding him that he had lost his old, simple world and he could never go back.

All for Jack.

And he had no regrets. Absolutely no regrets. All for Jack, because it seemed that no matter what had happened, peaceful world or no, Jack had always made his world seem a little brighter. Maybe even much brighter in some moments. Like this.

"Sssh..." he heard Jack say. "Oooh, it's bleeding a little isn't it, Paulie? Now, now. Be a brave boy, okay? It's okay, it's okay. Come let me kiss it better for you."

"Daniel can kiss it better," Paul sobbed.

"Okay, let's find Mommy and together we'll make it better for you."

Daniel felt his breath catch and before he knew it, tears blinded his eyes.

*Jack* called him 'mommy' for his boy.

He knew that this was the confirmation about his place in this house.

This house was where he belonged. Finally.

He had wondered and relived again and again the kiss he shared with Jack in the Abydos tunnel. 'The kiss of death' Jack had sheepishly explained. A kiss of desperation, resolving from the knowledge of one defying death, or one defying hell. It was a kiss of comfort, a kiss to breathe and a kiss of gratefulness. To Jack, it was explanation enough. But to Daniel, it only made him burn more. He had wished, and hoped and waited for it to happen again.

But then again, it had been only two weeks.

Brad said that all he needed to do was to wait patiently. Jack wasn't going anywhere.

Daniel would hang on to what he had for now.

Winning Jack's heart might not be a piece of cake but it would definitely be worth waiting for if it meant having him forever.

**************************

THE END

Continued in the sequel "The Fall of the Titans"


End file.
